


The Devil is Kind

by Irishgrlnextdoor



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: 10 Cloverfield Lane-ish, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Fan art now included in ch.12, Implied Violence, Kidnapped, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Abuse, Mind Manipulation, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Smut, Triggers, Violence Against Walkers, trapped in a bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-11-26 21:45:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18186125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irishgrlnextdoor/pseuds/Irishgrlnextdoor
Summary: When Rick wakes up in a doomsday bunker owned by Negan and is told the world has ended, it appears the man is his savior.Rick can see the world is full of monsters now, but he comes to learn that there's also something dangerous with him inside the little shelter he's been confined to.Au- still Zombiestrigger warning for mentally manipulative/abusive Negan down the road. (warnings start kicking up after chapter 3) mentions of violence, graphic smutsand a lot of really naughty language.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Judith is Rick’s. Carl is only 12 in this, Judith a toddler again. Rick was never shot. Story inspired loosely by 10 Cloverfield Lane movie setting, but largely modified between both that and The Walking Dead with many liberties taken. You won't miss out if you haven't seen both. Warnings for dark themes and Dark Negan.
> 
> Additional trigger warning largely for mental abuse and manipulation-y’all know how Negan is- It starts off subtle and builds up and if you have a personal issue or start feeling stressed by themes such as this I HIGHLY encourage you off this fic and over to my fluffier Us Vs the World story. Know your limits and use caution if you proceed, I take no responsibility for any individual’s mental wellbeing. This story is for entertainment only, thank you.

The Devil is Kind

“Little one gotta heed my warning, devil is kind.”

Title inspired by song ‘Devil is Fine’ By Zeal & Ardor

 

 

* * *

 

Rick heard a woman scream, jerking up into consciousness reflexively. “Lori!”

He had meant to shout it, but it was hardly more than a choked whisper cracking through his dry lips. Right away he flinched as pain accosted him, shooting through his head and dazing him. His vision swam and he worried he might black back out for a moment, falling back to the thin mattress he had been laying on. His head wasn’t the only thing that hurt, his right leg screaming in pain as he squirmed. It stole his breath away, which was the only reason he didn’t scream from _that_ pain.

He reached for it reflexively, but his right hand caught on something, sending a lesser pain through his wrist and bringing his attention to it, forcing his eyes open again to see that it was handcuffed to a radiator in the wall. His own handcuffs, he realized as the pain took a back seat in his mind when the confusion broke down and his brain caught up to the fact.

He was trapped. He was trapped and hurt. He-

“Whoa, whoa, now!”

Rick jumped so hard at the deep voice that his leg flared in pain as if he had just thrust it into a fresh fire and the cuffs clanged loudly against the metal of the radiator. He sat up anyway, pressing his back into the fixture as he realized belatedly he was not alone.

There was a man standing over him, though he crouched down in front of Rick to bring himself a lot closer to the same level, his hands held up in non-threatening reassurance. “Easy! Just take it easy, Rick. You’re a lil’ banged up, but I think you’ll be alright,” the deep masculine voice spoke up, barley making it past Rick’s panic.

Slowly, Rick managed to process the face behind those hands and words. The man crouched before him was large, even stooped down, built solid and likely at least 30lbs on Rick. His hair was dark and combed back neatly, though there was a mix of salt in the pepper of his beard. His eyes were dark and right now they looked minorly concerned as they focused on him.

Past him, Rick realized the room was strange too, nothing he could recall ever being in before in his whole life. It was rather plain and small, steel army-green walls with nothing inside of them but a radiator and a thin single-person mattress laid out under himself. No windows, just a door across the room.

“Do you remember what happened?” Negan prompted, licking his lips like he was nervous for the answer, mindful to keep his distance.

What happened… Rick’s head pounded as he tried to recall.

It was fuzzy at best, but he could remember being in the car, and being afraid. He could recall driving to… he hadn’t even known where at the time, just driving in hopes of finding someplace safe. He needed to get his family somewhere safe. The streets weren’t safe, and everyone was evacuating to safe zones, they-

His _family_ , they had been in the car with him. Judith had been screaming in her car seat, and Rick had only turned around for a moment to try to calm her. Lori had shouted his name, and when he had turned back around he only saw the truck-lights filling his window. Then everything was black. “Lori!” Rick shouted again, jerking in an effort to get up before both the cuff and his leg reminded him he wasn’t going anywhere. “Carl! Judith! My-my family!”

“Rick, calm down. I need you calm,” the man told him firmly.

“Who are you?” Rick demanded, adrenaline flooding him and tears building up behind his eyes in his stress. He didn’t know this man. This man who had him alone and injured. Why hadn’t he been taken to a hospital? Was this the army shelter? “What happened? Y-you know my name? Where’s my family?”

“Relax, Rick, your son told me your name by the way. I got him and your baby girl waiting for you in the main room. They’re just eating some cereal and drinking some juice right now. I’m Negan, I brought you all here so you’ll be safe. Christ, I couldn’t in good conscious leave the kids out _there_. You’re safe here, so just calm down and talk to me.”

Rick did calm a little at hearing that they weren’t in immediate danger, but still was firmly on edge, glancing back to the cuff on his wrist and the splint fashioned from his ankle up to his thigh. He was still in his deputy-sheriff’s clothes, having packed up his family straight from work, but his belt and holster were gone and his boots were set off to the side of the mattress with his hat. There was dried blood on his shirt and his right pantleg had been split up the side nearly to his hip to allow the splint. 

Negan followed the direction of his eyes with a look of regret, still watching Rick carefully. “I’m sorry about the cuffs, just wanted to make sure you couldn’t hurt yourself when you woke up. Your leg is broken, I think. I could barely get you out of the car because it was pinned between the seat and the dash. Other than that, just some superficial cuts and scrapes on you. I set it while you were out and splinted it, but it’s the best I can do for you.”

Rick turned his eyes back to him then. “The hospital-

“There is no hospital anymore, Rick,” Negan informed him flatly. “No doctors or medical outposts either. The world went to shit pretty fuckin’ fast and all that went with it.”

Rick knew it wouldn’t help but he still pulled against his own cuff, testing it anyway, wanting it off. “Where am I then?”

Negan actually smiled then, too big and too white, though he relaxed considerably in front of Rick. “You’re somewhere safe, thanks to me. That’s more than the rest of the world can say. You ever see that show Doomsday Preppers? Ever hear of bunkers being found around homes bought from paranoid people who lived during the cold war? Well, you’re there, Rick. Turns out they get the last laugh after all. I brought you and your kids back here to mine.”

Rick jolted, realizing what part of his questioning had been avoided thus far. “Lori! Where is she?”

The smile vanished, Negan’s whole face drawn and distressed and Rick felt his stomach clench tighter than a fist.

“Rick…” his voice was far softer and Rick started shaking his head slowly like it might convince the man to say something other than what he most dreaded hearing right now.

“N-no!” he gasped.

“Rick, I’m sorry. She didn’t make it.”

Rick realized he was shaking and crying after the fact, both only getting worse once he did notice. He felt all the strength seep out of him, dropping slowly back to the mattress and throwing his free arm over his face, chocking through his sobs and trying to just survive the ache in his chest. She couldn’t be-

She just couldn’t be-

God, he couldn’t even _think_ the word to himself. She had just been next to him, looking as scared as he felt. He could still clearly see her face, eyes full of terror as she screamed his name before his vision was filled with truck lights. She couldn’t be-

He hadn’t even realized Negan had moved closer until he felt the other man’s soft touch on his hand, the cuffs clicking free as he unlocked them with Rick’s own key. He gently set the limp hand next to Rick, who vulnerably curled in on himself as best he could. “I know, man. I know it hurts. I lost- I lost someone too. Let it hurt, that’s okay. Take your time, but come out and see your kids once you’re able. Your baby’s doin’ okay, but your little boy has been coping on his own for the last day or two and could really stand to see you up and about. He’s been worried. I think you probably will need to see them too. We can talk later about the rest.”

The sounds of Negan’s boots echoed through the room as he crossed over to the door, leaving it cracked open, taking the cuffs and key with him. Rick actually wished he would have closed it, biting down on his lip to try to muffle his cries. It was all his fault.

X

Rick hadn’t heard Negan return, but when he woke up, his cheeks tight with dried tears, he looked over and saw a set of crutches had been left next to the cot for him. A note was sitting with it, little marker scribbles that had to be Judith-made decorating the front. The other side was in Carl’s messy handwriting, just the words ‘Get Well Dad’ penciled on it.

Spurred on by the reminder of his children waiting for him, needing him, Rick eventually found the will he needed to drag himself up, grabbing the crutches and using the wall for support to pull himself onto his good foot. It was painful, both physically and emotionally, but Rick bit both pains back. He couldn’t be any comfort to his children if he was too busy with his own suffering, but there was no making it go away, just hiding it, just like he always did. Just like Lori always yelled at him for-

“No!” he hissed at himself. He couldn’t go there. Not now. He pushed it all back down, because he had to. He just had to.

It took some shuffling and more physical pain as he tried to find a way to carry his leg. There was no pain-free way, but he was able to find something he could function through at least and made his way across the small room and over to the door to go find his children.

He had been surprised to find a hallway, the place much larger than he expected. It was lined with storage shelves packed full of storable food and toiletries. He was guided down it by the soft sound of music playing, Jimmy Buffet getting louder as he made his way through.

The hall was more plain gray steel, vents letting air and heat into it. He rounded the corner at the end of the hall, his eyes growing wide that the difference in living space. The room he had been drawn to like a siren’s call was decent size, a little larger than his living room at home and full of creature comforts and living items. It bordered on hoarder-ish, all the stuff packed in and stacked up. Old but comfortable-looking chairs and couches were set around a box tv, stacks of VHS tapes piled high on top of it.

Storage shelves lined the walls, overflowing with extra blankets, books, boxes, and more VHS tapes, as well as a few spare electronics.

Jimmy Buffet went on about Margaritaville from even further back, Rick shuffling further in to take in the separate kitchen area, well stocked and surprisingly normal-looking, if not a bit outdated. Relief washed over him to see Carl sitting at the table, his 12-year-old bent over the Gameboy he had packed up when Rick had been trying to get everyone into the car as fast as possible. Judith was sat in his arms, but his hands were full of Gameboy as he held both close.

In front of the stove, stirring up something in a skillet, stood Negan in an apron, seeming pleased as punch as he moved his head and hips a bit to the beat of the song. He was the first to spot Rick, looking him over briefly as if checking his condition before slipping that pleased grin back over his face, turning a bit towards the table behind him. “Look alive, children. _Daddy’s_ up.” There was something teasing about the way he said it, throwing Rick a wink like it was a joke they could share. “And I hope he’s hungry because this is smelling _damn_ good,” he sing-songed; tooting his own horn as he continued to mess with the food.

Dazed was probably the best word for Rick at the moment, watching the man grin through what felt like the end of the world.

Carl was up on his feet, his baby sister carried in his arms and his Gameboy forgotten as he took her quickly over to Rick. His eyes were red like he had been crying a lot too. Rick dropped one of the crutches in favor of his son and daughter, pulling Carl as tightly against his good hip as he could and leaning down to press kisses against his head, a critical eye taking in the health of his younger daughter. She smiled up at him and cooed.

Carl had his face buried in his father’s waist, trying to hide his own tears. Rick supposed he had picked that up from him. Lori was always more open about it. Whenever she would cry she’d-

 _No_. he told himself firmly.

Only after a few moments did Carl pull back, the sobs barely contained as he lifted his sister up where Rick could kiss her, his crutch not letting him lean down too far. He couldn’t seem to kiss her enough.

She seemed fine. Carl too, though there was bruising and a rash along his neck from the seatbelt and a shallow cut above his left eye that had a butterfly bandage over it. His left wrist and arm had some light dressing around it. “Dad!” Carl cried in desperation, burying them both against Rick’s side once more like he couldn’t stand the inches between them. Rick wished he had had the strength to come out before.

“Thank God!” Rick gasped in relief, “Thank God you’re both okay.”

Negan gave a joyless laugh from back in the kitchen. “Close enough I guess, but _I’m_ the one who got them out of the car. God’s left everyone to rot. _Me_ , well I’m the one serving up some delicious beef stir-fry.”

Rick didn’t respond to that, turning Carl’s chin up to look at him. “Are you okay?” he asked, more quietly. He hoped Carl would understand the depth of his question.

 _Has he hurt or scared you at all?_ _Should I be worried about him?_

Carl offered him a weak smile and a small nod. “I’m okay. Negan’s a good cook, and he’s sort of funny. Sort of.”

“Out of the mouths of babes comes the highest praise,” the man grinned, having eaves dropped. “Don’t you worry none, Daddy. Ain’t a single hair gonna be harmed on either of their heads, I’ll help you make sure of that. Come and get it!”

Rick had a lot of questions for the man, but more importantly he had something else that needed saying. Carl helped him get his dropped crutch back and he hobbled his way after his children towards the kitchen. Negan plated the food quickly, asking Carl to get another plate for Rick to join them.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Rick pressed upon the man once he was in front of him, his voice thick with gratitude. “T-thank you, my kids are… thank you.”

Negan’s smile warmed considerably around the edges, his eyes lighting up a bit at the words. “Shit Rick, like I said, I couldn’t leave y’all out there.”

It was a lie, and Rick knew it. The man could have left them. Anyone else very well might have. Left them to the hell that had been breaking out all around them. The things Rick had seen before loading up his family in the car… unspeakable things he still couldn’t quite comprehend, much less understand. It had only seemed to be getting worse and worse, and for the first time in days he could feel a sliver of ease that his children were safe, though Lori-

He tried to compose himself, nearly losing it all over again.

Negan clapped a hand on his shoulder in reassurance and understanding and Rick’s own hand flew up to it, clamping on because just for a moment he felt like he needed something grounding him, reassuring him.

He needed a lot more information though before he could really give into that concept that they were safe. He needed to know… he needed to know a lot of things. He needed-

“Sit down, Rick,” Negan insisted, “Enjoy a meal with your kids. Quick too because that boy of yours packs it in. We can talk later tonight,” he assured him, as if reading his thoughts.

As carefully as he could with his leg, Rick all but collapsed down into his chair, Negan sliding into the seat across from him and his children.

Carl was indeed digging in, half his plate gone before either man picked up a fork. Negan seemed to note the red around the kid’s eyes, his face flushed like he might break down again at any moment despite his appetite. He cast the teen a smile to try to perk him up. “Save some room there, Killer. We might have enough food here to feed a small army, but _you’re_ starting to look like another matter entirely. Besides, if you fill up now how will you have room for one of the hundreds of Twinkies that are stored away down here for desert?”

That got a bit more of a smile out of Carl, excited at the prospect of sweets. Such a simple pleasure seen in his son dragged a small smile kicking and screaming out of Rick as well and he cast a thankful glance to Negan.

The man simply gave Rick another wink and returned to his meal.

After supper Negan set Carl up with Judith in front of the TV, popping in some cartoon movie for them to watch before taking Rick aside for a ‘tour’.

Rick followed him through a door located off the back of the kitchen area into a smaller steel room. A single hazmat suit hung on the wall, there was another steel door to the left and a staircase leading up to the right, nothing else but them inside. At the first chance for privacy Rick took the chance to unload a few of his most pressing concerns on the man. “My wife, Lori, you said she- Are you sure? Are you _very_ sure? What-what did you do to make sure? I’ve been a cop for years and I know sometimes in the confusion of a chaotic situation how sometimes things can be _missed_ , or overlooked and I just- I just- I-

“Rick, calm now,” Negan advised, not without some empathy. “I promise you, I made _sure_.”

“But the accident, I just- it was my side that got hit. Carl and I were on the left of the car and a truck T-boned us. How is everyone else okay and she-

He was getting worked up, unable to keep it all in altogether, and Negan looked sympathetic as he placed his hands on Rick’s shoulders to try to steady him. “Rick, if you’ve been a cop for years then you know sometimes car accidents just… they just aren’t always _fair_.”

It was a delicate way of saying it. Rick knew he wasn’t wrong, he had experienced many of them in his time. He had seen people walk away unscathed from an overturned car that had been going 70mph, and he had seen bodies removed from fender benders. Sometimes only one person would survive in a full vehicle, and sometimes only one person wouldn’t. No, they weren’t always fair. He could feel himself shaking again.

Still, he couldn’t just leave it. He couldn’t. “I- I need to go find her. I need to get back to the car and see- I need to let someone know. Someone should know where she is, they should know-

Negan was shaking his head. “Rick, I’m sorry, but there’s no one to tell anything to. It didn’t just go to hell out there, it _became_ hell. You _can’t_ ever go out there.”

Rick refused to hear it, needing to go. It was his fault, he had been driving. He had taken his eyes off the road. He had to find her to-

He didn’t realize he was trying to push past Negan until the man shoved him back, causing him to stumble on the crutches, the pain of his leg bringing him back to awareness.

“You can’t,” Negan growled, frustration flashing across his face. “You wanna see? I’ll show you why you can’t. Come on then.”

He had Rick set aside the crutches, throwing his arm around himself instead so he could haul him up the steps, slowly to mind the leg. Rick was pretty certain the break was in the tibia or fibula judging by the bruising and the worst of the pain.  

They reached the top, an even heavier steel door there with a small window in the front of it. Negan glanced through it with a dark look in his eye before leaning back for Rick to take a peek.

Rick couldn’t have been prepared for what he saw. There were empty fields nearly as far as the eye could see, new crops not yet growing in. The sky was grey and bleak and it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t rainclouds but smoke clogging up the sky. Off in the far horizon he could see a glow in the darkness, Negan’s low rumble was in his ear. “That’s Atlanta, Rick. It’s burning. The government bombed it out trying to contain… whatever the fuck happened. The city was only 30% evacuated at the time.”

Rick’s breath caught in his throat, but Negan wasn’t done, his tone grave. “They didn’t contain shit though, it’s _everywhere_ out there. Maybe it’s a virus… something in the air, I don’t know. What it does to the people though, they ain’t people no more. Jesus- there’s one now.”

Rick glanced off to the left, seeing someone stumbling around in the field. He had seen others, before, stumbling around like they were sick. They killed anyone that came close to them if they could, attacking them with teeth and nails. He watched a couple other officers who were attacked get torn apart by them.

“The only thing left in this whole world are monsters, Rick.” Negan warned him.

Rick felt the coldest shiver of his life run down his back, unable to look away from the hell just outside the little window.


	2. Chapter 2

**"He promise many things"**

‘Devil is Fine’ By Zeal & Ardor

 

* * *

 

“Another drink?” Negan offered, lifting the bottle of Jack between them.

Rick took it with a nod of thanks, lifting it straight to his lips. They were both sitting on the old overstuffed couch in front of the TV; Rick with his injured leg propped up on a pillow on the coffee table to keep it elevated.

Negan watched him drink with an evaluating eye. “I really shouldn’t be giving you that with the painkillers.”

Rick scoffed. “It’s doing more than the painkillers right now.”

He had gotten an official tour of the doomsday shelter after seeing what it was like outside. The place was impressively big, set up by extreme paranoia to last for years. _Thank god for paranoia_ , he mused with self-pity as he took another drink. At least now they could die slowly.

_Stop it_ , he chastised himself, handing the bottle back to Negan.

Carl and Judith had been set up in Negan’s own bedroom, sharing the queen-sized bed. Negan had apparently been taking the couch for the last night or two according to Carl. He mentioned something about an extra single-sleeper mattress or two behind the storage shelves in the hall, saying he could set them up in the back room that Rick had initially woken up in for he and his kids to sleep on. It had been a nice way to dance around the subject Rick hadn’t been able to broach yet, the matter of how long he and his kids might have to stay down here. He had also been nervous that the man might not have the means of taking on another adult and two children.

Negan assured him that even with the extra people they would be stocked for at least five years. They didn’t talk about what would happen after that. Neither one of them seemed to want to at all. Not yet anyway.

Their talk after Negan had brought out the bottle of Jack had remained shallow compared to the situation they were in. Neither of them were really watching the movie Negan had put in after Rick had tucked his kids into the man’s bed. Negan had talked about being a gym teacher before everything; high school. Rick had expressed his condolences. Rick had talked about being a cop. Negan had expressed his condolences. They talked a bit about music and movies they liked. Rick had poked a bit of fun at the number of rom-coms the man had laying around on VHS, but Negan had insisted he had never seen any of them. The day had already been so hard, and Rick appreciated the break from the gloom and doom that the man was helping him indulge in before more was sure to be heaped on.

The man was likeable, if a bit loud, and he became even more so as the bottle grew emptier between them; likeable, that was. He tried to keep his voice down for the kids at least, and Rick appreciated that despite the man slipping once or twice when he would get excited about a subject or laugh.

“There’s a lot of stuff down here,” Rick mused after a bit, glancing around at the full room, not without appreciation as he passed the bottle back. “You didn’t have anyone else to bring down here?”

Negan’s face set grimly as he took another swig. Neither of them bothered with glasses. “Not anymore,” he simply said, the heavy answer cutting the mood. “ _My_ wife-”

Rick thought of Lori again and his chest ached for the other man. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was just before everything really went to shit out there,” Negan sighed. “My wife- Lucille- she had the prettiest smile you ever saw, and the cutest wiggle when she walked. Unfortunately, she also had cancer, and it took her too damn quick.”

That pain ached even worse. “I- I’m sorry,” was all he could say again.

There was a glassiness to Negan’s own eyes as he passed the bottle back then. “Shit happens and then you die, right?”

Rick didn’t have anything to say to that, unable to confirm or deny at the present moment.

“I will never be able to thank you enough for saving my kids and I,” he eventually brought up, “Because of you _we’re_ still alive, anyway.”

Negan gave a snort. “I already told you, Rick. I couldn’t leave you. Your pretty little head wouldn’t last five minutes out there. And with the kids… the three of you are just a complete set of downright fuckin’ cuteness. How was I _not_ going to take you?”

_Incomplete set_ , Rick amended bitterly to himself with thoughts of Lori once more; before his mind caught up to Negan having used words like pretty and cute in relation to himself. Even though it was just a joke, he still blushed a bit, probably because of the alcohol hitting him. “You-you didn’t have to actually bring us here though, give us your food and your care and your hospitality. Just some stranger driving by a wreck- and you bothered to stop to _save_ us? It’s above and beyond what most would do. I owe you everything.” He was getting choked up again, the alcohol certainly not helping that. “The lives of my _children_ , my own-

“Rick, I accept your thanks,” Negan interrupted him, assuring him. “Don’t get yourself worked up. Those beautiful blue eyes of yours shouldn’t be crying. That’s no way to thank anyone, by crying at them all the time. We’re alive, and that’s gotta count for something. The last thing I wanna do is spend this second chance we got weepin’ all over myself, or watchin’ you do it out of gratitude. If I didn’t want you and your kids here… now obviously that’s not the case. So mi casa es fucking su casa,” he grinned.

Rick found himself returning the smile, grateful down to his bones for the man sitting on the other end of the couch.

In an effort to change the subject and bring the mood back up, Rick gave a little chuckle and gestured around himself. “I’ll be honest though, you don’t really strike me as someone that has something like _this_. Especially to this extent.”

“Don’t I?” Negan mused. “I might not have made it to eagle scout, but I like the idea of being prepared as much as the next guy.”

“The next guy, sure,” Rick smiled, “But this place is a bit more than what the next guy would have. The people that make places like this are usually more… _introverted_ I guess, for lack of a better word.”

Negan rolled his eyes. “You know a lot of people with places like this, Officer? A guy can’t be a people-person and also be prepared for the end of the world at the same time?”

Rick supposed he was indeed generalizing. But it still seemed like an odd combination. “Okay, I’ll concede the point. It just seemed strange to me for a min-

“Maybe you should just go on being grateful that I’m both then,” Negan cut him off, some of the humor gone from his voice.

It wasn’t a harsh tone, per say, but there was a look in Negan’s eye for just a moment that wiped the smile from Rick’s face. He hadn’t meant to offend. He didn’t think he had even actually said anything offensive. Negan’s sudden shortness was very confusing.

Negan let out a snort at the expression on Rick’s face as he tried to figure out what he had done and suddenly the humor was back in his eye, “Take another drink, Rick. You’re kind of an uptight guy. We’re just talkin’, bustin’ each other’s balls and enjoying a drink together after a good meal. I intend to keep on enjoying it too,” he grinned mischievously, reaching out for the bottle to be passed back to him.

Rick had been told a few times in his life that he was uptight. He supposed he could be, thinking the man had been more serious than he actually was. He could try to loosen up a bit more, he supposed. He tilted the bottle up, taking a notably longer swig till Negan was downright laughing at his gumption before he passed it back.

“Att’a boy! Now we’re having a good time!”

Negan took a long pull himself, just a little more than Rick’s had been, flipping Rick the bird as if he had just won a contest between them of who could drink more.

Rick felt the warmth of the drink settling further into his mind, thinking he would be perfectly willing to try to beat Negan at that once he got the bottle back.

X

Rick woke up the next morning to a massive headache, reminding him somewhat of how he woke up the morning prior. This time it was his own doing, however, less than half of the bottle left on the coffee table.

He was laid out on the couch, a blanket tossed over him. He looked around- his head pounding as he did so- to see more blankets and pillows folded up and left behind on the other couch that was pressed up against the side wall where Negan had to have slept.

The sound of soft laughter behind him pulled him to sit up a bit, though it was hard work just to look over the back of the couch towards the sound. Carl was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal in front of him for breakfast. Judith was on his knee. “Are you hungover, Dad?”

Rick could only groan in response.

“That’s what Negan said too,” Carl laughed around another bite.

Rick gave another groan, wondering if the work that getting to his feet would take would be worth going to the bathroom. Yeah… he really had to go.

He had only started to mess with his crutches when Negan reemerged from his bedroom. “Carl had a lil’ accident,” he groaned, “But I took care of it.”

Carl’s face lit up with indignation. “I already told you, I did not! It was Judith!”

Both adults flinched at his howl of injustice.

Negan had to grab his head in his hands as if it would keep it from exploding. “Damn Killer, I was just kidding. I surrender, now lower your Goddamn weapon! Finish your breakfast. Maybe smash up a can of peas for your sister so she can eat too.

He turned back to Rick, a look of pained understanding sliding between them. “How’s Daddy this morning?”

“Awful,” Rick scoffed, though a small smile reached his lips. Last night had been a little bit of what he needed.

“Good, that means it was fun. Can I get you something to eat?”

Rick chuckled, and groaned some more, pulling himself up on the crutches. “I need to piss.”

“You need a hand?”

The joke made him sputter in indignation for a moment, but Negan didn’t look like he was actually joking. Rick was loathed to realize it wasn’t an inappropriate suggestion all together; the sad truth being that he might possibly require some help maneuvering in the bathroom between his head and his leg. Largely his leg. All the same… “I’ll manage, thanks.”

Negan looked less certain but nodded his head. “Call if you change your mind.” He turned back to Carl. “Hey Killer, you ever seen Star Wars?”

Carl shook his head, brows drawn.

Negan turned back to Rick with exaggerated outrage. “Shame on you! Child abuse is a real thing, Officer.”

Rick laughed, giving a shrug as he hobbled towards the bathroom. He had never been much of a fan himself.

“Well, that will give us something to spend the day doing then. We got the first three originals here. Don’t you worry none kid, I won’t let him neglect you anymore.”

Rick wasn’t sure he would ever stop feeling grateful for Negan. Especially as Carl laughed and finished off his breakfast, his legs kicking under his chair where they hung to show off his mood’s upturn.

With Lori gone and the world over, every smile his son or daughter gave were invaluable gifts to him.

X

Negan got a pair of mattresses set up in the empty back room the next night, though he tried to insist Rick keep to the couch or even take his own bed on account of his leg. It was harder for him to get up and down from the floor. Rick had insisted he was fine, wanting to keep close to his son and daughter, Judith’s thin mattress pressed up against his own so he could sleep with her within reach.

Negan hadn’t been stocked up for any babies, but they managed as best they could to adjust some stored food for her and fashion some cloth diapers out of spare towels. It was a short-term solution, however, and without something more concrete Rick tried not to let his worry show for his daughter. It was hard not to when they were using baking soda for baby powder.

Carl was usually kept occupied during the day by Negan or the TV or some of the games he had packed for himself, whatever had been in the backpack he had been wearing in the car. Sometimes, however, reality got to him, storming him and leaving him crying out of nowhere. Rick wanted to cry too during those times, holding his son and trying his best to assure him they were alright. That they were going to be alright. Thanks to Negan.

Nights were the hardest. The first night they had stayed on the spare mattresses Carl had woken up screaming for his mom, waking Judith and causing her to scream too. Rick had dragged them both over to Carl’s mattress to hold his children close, the noise nearly shaking the whole room.

Negan’s room was on the other side of the bunker, but he had still woken up, coming and checking up on them all.

Rick’s apologies for waking the man could hardly be heard over his children’s cries, but Negan had told him to shut up about it anyway, coming into the room and sliding down to sit on the other side of Carl, running a comforting hand over the boy’s leg as he held onto his father’s waist and cried himself back to sleep.

Rick had noticed for the first time in the silence afterwards that Negan’s eyes weren’t as dark as he had first thought, but rather hazel, flecks of green and blue. They had stared back at him kindly from over a warm smile.

“You’re wrong,” Rick found himself whispering hoarsely to the man over the sleeping heads of his children.

Negan cocked a brow in question.

“You said before that there was nothing left in this world but monsters. You were wrong.”

Negan was left, and he was a guardian angel.

Negan had grinned back at him, picking up on his meaning. “Stop it, Rick. You’ll make me blush.”

X

It had been about a week when Negan first approached Rick with an absurd idea.

A dangerous idea.

He wanted to commit suicide.

“I- I can’t let you,” Rick hissed, grabbing hold of the man’s arm like he meant to leave him at that moment.

“I’m not asking your permission, Rick,” Negan hissed back, determined. “Keep your voice down.”

They both glanced over from the kitchen to where Judith was napping on the couch and Carl was absorbed in Negan’s collection of old Godzilla movies.

“Come on, let’s talk in private,” Negan insisted, leading the way to his bedroom off the kitchen.

Rick hobbled along behind, turning around to continue berating Negan’s idea as soon as the man closed his door behind them. “You can’t go out there! You can’t!”

Negan held up his hands placatingly “Rick, just relax and hear me out. Judith needs stuff we don’t have here. We all have a list of wants, but there’s stuff she’s going to _need_. I have the hazmat suit. I can take it and go out to get some of those things and come back. I would be _very_ careful Rick. I won’t go to Atlanta. There’s a small trucker’s weigh station maybe three miles down the road. They got all kinds of stores filled with emergency items for people on long trips, including some baby food. I don’t know about you but I’m damn near ready to rip a changing table off the wall and bring it here. I’m tired of that baby girl not having anything that she needs. I’ll take the truck and be back in time for supper.”

Rick didn’t want to agree to any of this. He really didn’t. Anything could happen. One of those monsters could get Negan, or if something ripped his hazmat suit…

If anything happened to Negan and they were left here alone…

Negan had shown him during the first day or two how basic maintenance of the shelter worked, but how long could he keep up with that? He couldn’t.

Not to mention his own family’s fate, but what about _Negan_? Rick didn’t want to even imagine anything happening to the man who had done so much for them. Negan was already so much more than a friend, he was as good as a part of the family. He had _saved_ them, for crying out loud. He went out of his way to make Carl smile at every opportunity and the other night he had held Judith on his hip to bounce around the kitchen to some Billy Joel as he cooked. He had offered support to Rick while his children wept in his arms.

Negan’s stance softened considerably at whatever was on Rick’s face, urging him to take a careful seat on the side of the man’s bed. “Hey, hey now. Don’t go mourning me already. Don’t you do that Rick Grimes. There’s nothing to mourn. I’ll be back. That’s a Goddamn guaran-fuckin’-tee. I _will_ be back. The unsung hero riding back home on his white horse with a sack full of new diapers that Judith can fill with as much shit as she wants!”

Rick chuckled at that, but his stomach was still knotted. “Negan, this is definitely too much to ask of you. You’re talking about going out there, risking your life for me and my kids. If anyone goes it should be me-

Negan let out a hoot of laughter at that. “We both know that isn’t happening with your leg, Rick. Hell, you’d just look like another one of those monsters hobbling around out there. Some of them walk better than you can right now.”

Negan sat down beside him, and Rick frowned when his chest did something else- something a little more… _fluttery_. Rick clamped down that feeling, slamming the door on it.

Negan’s hazel eyes were intent on him, looking so sure that he was right about this. His mind was clearly already made up. “I’ll be safe. You see that bat with barbed wire on it next to the door? I call her Lucille- in honor of my late-wife. My wife kept me livin’ before through many a stupid-ass decision, and so will she. I’ll take her with me. Plus, there’s a shotgun in the truck if I need it,” he insisted with a nod to the bat.

“Don’t you tell Carl I went out. There’s no need to worry him. He won’t notice until I’m already back. It will just be a nice surprise that way.” He could just slip into the stairwell from the door that led directly into his room; Carl really wouldn’t have to know.

Rick couldn’t stop him, even if he wanted to physically try it. “Don’t I already owe you too much? I could never repay you enough for this either,” he sighed ruefully.

Negan grinned at him, scooting just a little closer and lowering his voice, “Tell you what, Rick. You say ‘thank you, Negan’ and we’ll call it even, but just do it once this time.”

Rick laughed to himself. As if that made them even. It didn’t come close, but he wasn’t about to deny the man anything right now. He meant it fully when he met his eyes and whispered back, “Thank you, Negan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know below what you think thus far.  
> If you've already given kudos I thank you very much, leaving even a brief comment lets me know if this story is still being enjoyed or not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter things will start taking a turn down darker paths, but it will be gradually building still, be aware of the tags and know there might be more to come. In the meantime, deeper into the spider's web we go.

 

 

* * *

 

Rick counted the minutes- the seconds, while the TV played. Negan was right, Carl hadn’t even noticed the man was gone yet. But he was bound to very soon. Negan had left almost two hours ago, and after the first hour Rick’s anxiety had raised significantly.

What was he supposed to say if Carl asked him about Negan now?

Rick felt sick to his stomach with worry and guilt that the man was out there for him and his kids. He couldn’t even go out after him if something happened.

Rick nearly wet himself with both fright and relief when something clanged in the stairwell, the heavy metal door at the top slamming closed.

Carl finally took his attention off the TV in confusion, but Rick was already up and hopping along on his crutches to the kitchen. Negan didn’t come in through the kitchen entrance, however, slipping through his bedroom door to make use of the shower off the doorway there to scrub off any germs or toxins.

Rick rested his forehead against the closed door of the man’s bedroom, saying a prayer of thanks to whoever might be listening that he was home safe.

X

Negan hadn’t been kidding about that unsung hero bit. After leaving everything out in the stairwell for a few days to disinfect, he had revealed his loot to the rest of them. Rick had never been so delighted in his life by five cans of formula.

There had been a package of diapers too, though not many, and a few baby toys, like a rattle and teething ring. Negan had made good on his promise of baby food containers. He hadn’t found any baby powder but had stocked up on more baking soda. It worked, at least.

The man had been most pleased with himself to unload a whole shopping bag of candy bars onto Carl. “Happy Halloween kid, I did the trick-or-treating for ya a lil’ early this year.”

Carl had lit up and thrown his arms around Negan in thanks. Rick almost did the same.

He had gotten a few containers of gas too for more runs in the future, which Rick wasn’t so pleased with the idea of, despite the results of this one. Negan started talking about a few of the monsters he came up against, regaling Carl with details of how he had used his bat on them to gruesomely take them out. Rick hadn’t liked that either, clearing his throat so the man would stop, Carl’s eyes going a little too wide with wonder at the gory details.

Negan made it up to Rick, however, when he presented him with another shopping bag. “Don’t think I forgot about you now, Darlin’,” Negan teased.

Rick had taken the bag, a smile splitting across his face when he saw a couple large bottles of whiskey inside. The real expensive ones that were locked behind glass at most truck stops. He knew just who to share them with. Negan grinned back at him like they had the same thought.

They had to celebrate Negan’s success, Negan himself the first to suggest it. He had filled the whole bunker with the sound of George Thorogood, cranking up the little cd player and belting out every other word while he cooked and exchanged drinks of whiskey with Rick at the table. Somehow Judith managed to fall asleep in Rick’s lap despite the noise, and she had been moved to a pile of blankets on the living room floor where everyone could keep an eye on her while the fun continued. Carl watched with mild interest as they drank until Negan started swearing more and Rick started slurring a bit.

“Can I try some?” he piped up.

Rick’s face flushed in embarrassment that watching him made Carl want to try it, but his mind was eased enough at that point that he also just found it really funny. Not as funny as Negan did, who doubled over laughing at the idea, but still funny.

Why not? The end of the world, Negan wouldn’t judge it, and Rick knew Carl wouldn’t like it anyway once he got a taste. He poured some in a coffee mug for the boy, sliding it across the table. He and Negan both watched in gleeful anticipation as Carl brought it to his lips, cringing and spitting it back into his cup almost right away with a “Yuck!”

Both laughed till they were nearly in tears at that, Rick taking the cup to dump out.

“Just takes some damn persistence,” Negan laughed, nudging Carl’s shoulder playfully. “Just keep at it till it puts a lil’ hair on that scrawny fuckin’ chest.”

Carl shoved back at the man, “No fuckin’ way!”

“Hey!” Rick scolded, his tone warning enough to make Carl bite his lip, though he continued to grin.

“See what you started,” Rick accused Negan, the man snorting another laugh at that. “Language, Carl.”

“He’s a lil’ man tonight,” Negan laughed. “Drinkin’ whiskey and cussing up a storm! Gonna be brawlin’ too before ya know it. Ain’t cha, Killer?”

He threw a few pantomiming punches in front of Carl’s face in jest, Carl laughing as he got up to pretend to throw one at the man. Negan jumped back as if it had been a big swing before wrapping an arm around the back of Carl’s head to get him in a lock, rubbing his knuckles playfully into his hair as they wrestled around.

“Knock it off, Dad- Negan!” Carl sputtered, his mis-speak cutting off his laughing as embarrassment flushed his face red.

Negan’s had gone a bit pink too, but he didn’t seem nearly as embarrassed. Between he and Rick it was hard to know who was more stunned, innocent though the slip was. Negan’s face softened and he released his hold, laughing it off a bit as he went back to cooking. “Sure Killer, don’t worry about it.”

Something sat bitter on the back of Rick’s tongue, though he knew it was stupid. It was something possessive and jealous. Something petty. He took another sip from the bottle, his face red from embarrassment and… that bitter little something else.

Negan noted the way Rick didn’t quite meet his eyes and shooed Carl out of the kitchen. “Go wash up for supper.”

“But the sink’s right there!”

“Then go get dirty first.”

Carl wandered off to his room, willing to give them a moment.

Negan turned down George just a bit so that Rick could hear him clearly. “Kids, ya know? They get confused all the time and say dumb shit, don’t let yourself read into it none. He probably is just used to wrestling with you.”

Rick turned his head to try to hide the sour turn of his lips. “We don’t really wrestle much.” _Ever_.

“Oh. Well, still, don’t give it a second Goddamn thought, Rick. He damn well doesn’t actually think of me as his daddy. Kid just about shit himself because of course he knows he goofed.” Negan leaned in a little closer, taking Rick’s stubborn jaw between his fingers to make him give eye contact again. “Listen, if it will help at all. I’ll start calling you _daddy_ too so he doesn’t slip again.”

The smile on his face was downright shit-eating and Rick knocked his hand away with a laugh, no longer sinking down with his own funk thanks to the man’s twisted sense of humor. “I’ll pass, thanks. Yeah, it was just a silly slip.”

“See,” Negan laughed, relaxed once more as he turned the music back up. “Let’s be honest here, I consider myself more a ‘papa’ than a ‘daddy’ anyway. I’ll correct him next time.”

Rick laughed again, taking another drink. The man was nothing if not full of jokes.

X

For the next few weeks time actually seemed to slip by. They found different ways to entertain each other and themselves. There was a bit of a routine established together, Negan cooking nine meals out of ten, diligent in both rationing and keeping stock besides just being a damn good cook. They would sometimes watch movies together, or sometimes Negan would break out a deck of cards for them to play with. Carl was getting too good at poker. There were some board games they could play to break it up too.

Sometimes Rick would spend the evening reading passages of a book from Negan’s stockpiled collection of classics to Judith, Carl and Negan both falling in to listen as well. Despite owning them Negan didn’t seem very familiar with most of them, but he enjoyed them well enough when Rick would read.

They would have most meals together, Negan sometimes _insisting_ on it, and Rick’s leg was starting to improve enough to not steal his breath every time he wiggled a toe, though that was about all the progress he had thus far.

They all found some new interests too to pass the time, which they had in abundance now. Rick started picking through some of the books on survival tips laying around the living room, finding a real appreciation for reading for the first time in his life.

Negan started making a weekly run for extra supplies, and though it worried them all terribly he always came back safe and with bags full of things for them, pumped up on the rush and in a great mood that would carry over for days afterwards.

Carl started picking through everything Negan owned out of sheer boredom, which the man didn’t seem to mind as long as he didn’t try it in his room. Everything else was open game for the boy.

Judith was occupied with crawling, going from rocking back and forth on all fours to combing the house like a caffeinated Rumba in a matter of weeks.

One time, Carl had taken his eyes off of her for just a moment, and Rick and Negan had both bolted around the entire bunker looking for her, Rick finding her all the way back in the back bedroom, thankfully okay and chewing innocently on her own foot.

It was after another one of Negan’s successful trips outside that Rick celebrated a little too hard with the man, drinking so much that he ended up passing out on the couch long after Carl had taken Judith and gone to bed. It wasn’t a problem, exactly, though Rick figured he should definitely cut back on it before it became one, at the point where he was indulging in drinks with Negan a couple nights out of any given week since there was little else to do.

The conviction to cut back came the following morning when Rick woke up not on the couch or in his own room, but in Negan’s _bed_ , of all places. He had still been fully clothed, though embarrassed to find Negan sleeping soundly next to him. He figured his drunk ass must have gotten up and moved to Negan’s bed by mistake sometime in the night, carefully climbing out. Negan never mentioned anything about it, greeting Rick when he came out to make breakfast the same as always.

He probably never even knew, and Rick blushed but said nothing about it either, figuring it would just be his own secret to keep of how foolish he had been.

The next time Negan wanted to have drinks with him Rick had been far more conservative, though it seemed to annoy the man a bit to have him bringing the party down, and Rick had slipped off to bed early. His _own_ bed this time.

Negan hit him up the next night for drinks again, but Rick had again declined to have more than just one or two small glasses, not really even wanting that many but feeling bad for leaving the man’s good mood hanging. “At least play a card game with me then,” Negan had bargained, going for the deck. “That boy of yours might be growing into a damn card-shark, but I still have a chance at beating _you_ at black jack. I’ll deal.”

Rick snorted but gave an agreeable nod of his head. “Fine then.”

They played a few rounds, Rick doing ok. Negan pressed a few more drinks to him, but he passed on them. After an hour or so Negan let out a frustrated huff. “This is kinda borin’ Darling. I ain’t gonna lie. What about truth or dare? You ever play that?”

Rick let out a snort. “Who hasn’t?”

A bunch of kids picking truth every time because they knew they couldn’t trust each other, it had never been that exciting to him.

Negan’s grin lit up his face. “Well hot diggity-dog, let’s play that instead!”

Rick rolled his eyes, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to humor the man. They talked all the time already as it was. There was little truth left to be had. There was only so much trouble they could get into with dares in the small bunker too. Negan would tire of it quickly.

“Truth or dare, then,” Negan beamed. “Let me guess- truth?”

Rick chuckled a bit. “Yeah, sure. Truth.”

Negan considered it for a moment. “You ever wish you could go out on those runs I make, Rick? Go out and face the monsters? Try your hand at striking a few down?”

Rick snorted again incredulously. “Hell no, I hate it enough that _you_ take that risk.”

“Shit, it’s actually kind of fun,” Negan laughed. “Great way to work out the tension, bashing the fuck out of someone’s skull with a bat. Run around like fuckin’ king of the world when it’s just you and the dead.”

Rick couldn’t help but frown a bit at Negan’s honest excitement just discussing it. Sometimes, when Carl and Judith were crying, or when he thought of Lori… maybe. Maybe he wished sometimes at his worst moments that his leg was better and he could run out there with Negan to take out a few of the monsters that had taken so much away from him, from everybody. Maybe.

“Maybe,” was all he whispered, because it was the truth after all.

Negan glanced up at Rick with a knowing glint in his eye, as if he wasn’t fooled at all by Rick’s own mixed feelings. “I bet Carl would be good at it.” he muttered after a moment.

That was like a cold splash of water in the face, Rick taking a drink without even thinking about it. “No,” he snapped, not wanting to even go there. Ever. The thought of Carl out there… his son killing anything, running amongst monsters… he would sooner chop off his own arm. “Truth or Dare,” he coaxed, wanting to change the subject.

“Dare!” Negan answered right away with a grin.

Shit, Rick hadn’t even thought of anything. “I dare you to…” he looked all about the room for anything. “Lick the soap bar that’s on the sink. Lord knows you swear enough you could use it,” he laughed.

Negan made a disgusted face but got up to do it anyway. “Of all the things I was hoping you’d tell me to lick…”

Rick’s whole face blossomed red as Negan crossed over to the kitchen to complete his dare. “Bleh- that is fuckin’ disgusting,” the man cussed again after a good lick up the side of it. “So that’s why parent’s fuckin’ make their kids wash their fuckin’ mouths out with fuckin’ soap.”

Rick laughed at the man’s extra cursing to prove a point. “Doesn’t seem to work too well on you though.”

Negan plopped down on the couch next to him, his grin downright salacious. “What can I say, Darlin’? I got me a filthy fuckin’ tongue.”

Rick’s laugh was decidedly weaker, taking another drink to try to hide the blush burning him up. At least he could blame it on the alcohol if he drank a bit more. He was more aware than he needed to be of how Negan’s arm was able to hang over the back of the couch behind him with how close he had plopped down next to him.

“Okay, well we know you are just going to pick truth again,” Negan chuckled. “Let’s see… what do you-

“Dare, then,” Rick cut him off. He had dared Negan after all. The man had fulfilled it without hesitation. Fair was fair.

Negan lifted a brow but turned those intense hazel eyes to lock with Rick’s blue ones. “Gonna puss out?”

“No Sir,” Rick promised, proud of how resolute his voice was.

Negan chuckled, but seemed willing to give him the chance to prove it. "I dare you to... take another drink, Rick. A long one. And I also dare you to pick dare again next round." 

Rick felt a fluttering of excitement deep down as he laughed, not even sure why. "That’s two dares, Negan. You don’t get to go twice." All the same, he took a drink. A long one. He had gotten better at doing so since drinking with the man. 

"Fuck it then, you go twice first."

"Okay, truth or dare?" 

"Truth." 

Rick had to think again. Most of the questions on his mind these days were universal and bleak and would lead to some depressing truths. Was the world never going to come back from this dark end? Was it some sort of judgement, or punishment? Would this underground bunker be their tomb?  

"Pick dare, Negan," he muttered, practically pleading as he realized he had more to fear from truth these days. 

Negan's brows furrowed a bit, but he picked up on whatever was there in Rick’s voice. "Alright. Dare." 

"I dare you to... take a drink. A long one," Rick tacked on for good measure. 

Negan laughed. "A cop-out from a cop. What a fuckin' plot twist." He tipped the bottle up, taking a long drink. "What's your second dare for me, Officer?" 

"Take another one," Rick shrugged indifferently, unable to come up with anything else at the moment. 

Negan arched a brow but did it. 

Rick assumed he would get another one himself, licking his lips. "Okay, I’ll choose dare too then."

"I dare you to let me kiss you, Darlin'."

Rick practically felt the blood freeze in his veins, but his stomach flipped at the same time. Lori's face came to mind instantly. "Negan-

"I’m not gonna force you to if you really don’t wanna. I would never do that to you, Rick. I just- damn, you know how long it’s been since I’ve gotten to kiss anyone? The last person I kissed was Lucille. That last kiss was as she was dying. I can’t have that be my last real kiss in life, a goodbye to my dying wife may sound poetic, but damn its... it’s just miserable." 

Rick felt some of the chill ease out of him, seeing that it was just that Negan was lonely. Touch starved and grieving. Rick supposed he was too a bit, so he could forgive Negan for asking when Lori had died only what... two months ago now? Somewhere around there. He was just so very lonely, and Rick was the only person there. 

Something about that also made him sad. 

Negan leaned in just a little closer, incredibly careful not to actually touch Rick, but just shy of it, leaving him an opening to scoot away. "Do you know how long I've wanted to kiss _you_ , Rick? I really do like you, Darlin', and I really adore your kids. I’ve never grown so close to anyone else before in such a short span of time. But I mean- shit, we spend all our time together, and I guess the end of the world has a way of making every day count so much more. I just have really wanted to kiss you for a fuckin’ while now. Maybe even since before I got back from that first run with food for your baby girl. Tell me no, Rick, if you really don’t want to, but please do it fast before I make an ass of myself." 

Rick swallowed thickly, his whole insides doing flips between cramps. Thoughts of Lori hung over him, but they were conflicted because he really did care for Negan. His kids cared for him too. He had risked his life so many times for them right from the start. A little guilty part of him _did_ want that kiss. Was that wrong though? The alcohol was making it harder to decide rather than easier. 

Negan moved just a little closer, his eyes darker as he looked at Rick through lowered lashes. His lips were so close it made Rick damn near dizzy. He could feel the man's warmth even without direct touch. 

"What's it gonna be, Darlin'?" he whispered, the air of the sentence tickling across Rick's lips, making him lick them reflexively. 

Something insanely lustful danced through Negan’s eyes at the action, and Rick closed that small gap between them. 

The man’s lips were softer than he expected, contrasting to the firm way Negan pressed them against his own. Lips moving against each other deepened when Negan’s tongue slipped over and past Rick's bottom lip, sweeping inside of him and Rick felt his heartbeat race. 

Negan was actually a really good kisser. It was kind of a shame he hadn’t been able to kiss anyone in all this time. A waste. 

Rick was flushed with the headiness of it all, as surprised as Negan was when tears broke through and spilled down his cheeks.

Negan pulled back less than an inch at the sight of them. "Damn, I’m not that bad at this, am I?"

Rick shook his head. The opposite if anything, but that wasn’t the reason for the tears either. He tried to swipe them from his eyes quickly. Lori wasn’t going to be his last kiss now. 

Negan turned his lips to the tear tracks instead, perfectly gentle as he kissed both sides of Rick's face and let the arm over the back of the couch fall around Rick’s waist to hold him. "Easy, Darlin’. It’s okay, you're okay. Let me kiss it better." 

It wasn’t really what Rick needed to hear at the moment, bordering on mocking despite the gentle words, but he didn’t fight when Negan’s lips found his again. 

Less certainly, he responded when the kiss deepened again, hesitantly brushing his tongue along the man's, trying to find that flutter from before that he had felt. 

Negan must have found it somewhere within himself, because his breathing turned a bit harsher with excitement and he pressed into Rick, trying to push him over on the couch. His arm tightened around his waist. 

Rick tried to draw back a little, needing air, needing a moment. Negan followed, pressing his chest against Rick’s, twisting on the couch so his hips moved closer against his thigh. He would pin him- he was angling for it and that thought made Rick’s heart beat in panic rather than excitement, already feeling trapped in against the larger man. 

He gave a firm shove at Negan’s shoulders, gasping as he got some air. "Stop!" 

Negan backed off immediately, lifting himself from where Rick had bowed backwards, a bit winded himself as he searched Rick’s face for any issue. Seeing the lust gone, Negan had decency enough to lean back further, though he didn’t get up. "You..." he seemed to pick over his next words, weighing them out. "You're… right, Rick. I just asked to be allowed to kiss you, nothing more. Nearly lost my head for a minute there," he chuckled hollowly. "You won the dare, Darlin'. Do you want to keep playin?" 

Rick felt like he would crack in two if he was any more conflicted. He shook his head. "No, I- I don’t want to play anymore. I’m gonna... go to bed." 

"In your room?" Negan asked. 

He said it like a simple question, but Rick felt kicked in the back of the head by it. _Where else?_

"Yeah," Rick muttered instead, not wanting to illicit any other option after- whatever that just was. His stomach felt empty and sick as he pulled himself from Negan’s arm and up onto his crutches. 

Negan never made a single move towards him, no attempt to grab him or persuade him otherwise. Those hazel eyes never left him, however, watching with thoughtfulness.

If he could have, Rick might have run back to his room. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Little one better heed my warning, Devil is fine."

Devil is Fine; by Zeal and Ardor

* * *

 

 

Most everything was fine the following day, Negan with his usual zealous mood as he went through the normal routine. 

Rick tried to act normal too. 

The kids were none the wiser. 

The only thing different, but different enough, was that Negan was calling Rick 'Darlin'' more. He was calling him that more than he was his actual name. 

It wasn’t like he had never done this, he had before in jest plenty of times. Walking in to find breakfast ready, Rick had been greeted with the standard joke Negan liked to make of "Mornin' Darlin', get it while it's hot!" 

Some of instances, however, felt less jovial. Some of them were uncomfortably placed in common domestic situations. 

"Darlin', have you seen the remote?"

"Judith got into Carl's candy, Darlin'- just a bit though." 

"Pass the salt, will ya, Darlin'?" 

It was enough that even Carl noticed and found it odd, brows drawing in confusion as he looked between the two during supper. 

Rick waited until that night to say something to Negan about it, sending Carl off to the back room with Judith to get ready for bed. "I'll be in in a minute. Gotta talk to Negan about somethin’."

Negan cocked a brow as Rick turned back to him. Once the kids were out of earshot the man cracked a bit of a smile at him. "Gonna turn in early? Sure you won’t stay and have a drink with me, Darlin'?" 

"Stop calling me that," Rick hissed, far from the calm request he had originally intended, flustered as he was. 

Something passed over Negan’s face at the demand, but then that grin slid up like a shield. "Whatever you say, Honey-bunch." 

Rick let out a huff through his nose. "It’s really not as funny as you think it is, Negan. The pet names... they're confusing Carl." _They also confuse me._ "Knock 'em off, will ya?" 

That smile didn’t move much, but there was something more challenging in Negan’s eyes. Running his tongue along his lip in thought. It was hard to tell when he spoke again if his voice was teasing or if it had an edge to it. "Man, you _really_ are too uptight sometimes. The pet names… are they hurtin' you, Rick? Like are you in physical pain from them or somethin'? What's the big deal? Anyone would think to look at you right now that it _was_ a big deal. Your turnin' something so small into something much bigger than it is, Rick." 

Rick pressed his lips, not liking the direction this had gone in. No, it didn’t physically hurt him, but that wasn’t the issue and they both knew that. He didn’t like it. That should be enough. He had made a request, but it felt like Negan was taking it as a fight or something. It wasn’t. Rick kept his voice calm and level to emphasize that and hopefully bring the man to that realization before it became one. "If it’s something so small than it should be fine to stop." 

There was a tension in Negan’s shoulders that Rick didn’t understand, it was uncalled for. The cop part of Rick instinctively wanted to have his belt and holster, wanting the defense for what suddenly felt borderline hostile. Certainly the tension was thick, unnecessarily so.

"The world is over and your biggest complaint is that I call you ‘Darlin'’? Sayin’ it confuses your kid, fuckin’ _really_? Wake the fuck up, Rick. Your kid doesn’t give a fuck about it. Everyone else has way bigger shit to worry about. I think _you're_ the one confused, but is that my fault? You're gonna take it out on me and act like I’m doing anything wrong? Tellin’ me what I can and can’t call you- in my _own_ fuckin shelter?" 

Rick flinched as if he had been slapped. It was Negan’s shelter but that was never something he had brought up and held over him before. The thought that he could- that he actually would-

Rick's crutches held him up better than his legs did for just a moment, and he suddenly felt that same trapped feeling that he had the night before in Negan’s hold. If Negan didn’t want them here… would he actually ever make them _leave_? Would he ever change his mind about saving them? His heart pounded in his ears as he realized the ice he stood on wasn’t as thick as he thought, hearing the first crack echoing under his feet.

Negan stalked away from him, going back to the kitchen to grab a beer out of the fridge, huffing in frustration.  His voice was a bit softer, more tired sounding as he opened up a bottle. "I think I preferred back when you were still thankful to me for saving your lives, Rick. If you’re getting so comfortable that you can worry over lil shit like that..." he gave a small mirthless laugh as he took a drink, sounding even more tired. "Shit, I wish I was that comfortable. It’s hard to get there when _I’m_ the one who goes out there and faces it all." 

Rick felt like that ice underneath him just kept cracking away, weakening his position drastically.

Maybe he _had_ overreacted, Rick felt a small voice whisper to him, but... 

But. 

This felt _wrong_. He had a good instinct, he had had to as a cop. Something was off here, even if he hadn’t pinpointed what yet. Something about the whole argument wasn’t right, the way Negan twisted it one way and then another, Rick could barely keep up till he was nearly doubting his right to have said anything in the first place. A part of him was still very unnerved that Negan had pointed out that Rick might be overstepping just by bringing a complaint to him about his behavior at all because they were in his bunker. That really had pulled the rug out from under him and left him spinning.

Negan took a drink, watching Rick over the lip of the bottle the whole while, just waiting for a retort. When one didn’t seem loaded in the chamber, he suddenly shifted his stance; the bitterness seeming to deflate right out of him in a sigh. "Okay, hey, don’t make that face. We don’t need to fight about it." 

Rick couldn’t keep up, though a part of him was relieved that Negan was coming around on it. 

"Look, the shot in the ass is that we are in this together now, and these little arguments... we don’t need ‘em," Negan rationalized. "After all it’s not like you can just take your kids and go, is it?" 

He seemed to be waiting for an actual answer, pressing for Rick to acknowledge it out loud, that bitter gleam back behind that thoughtful look as he took another drink. “Is it, Rick?”

Dread clawed through Rick’s stomach like a sickness, but Negan wasn’t wrong. He had no cards to hold here. Not with the shelter, the supplies, their safety... Rick didn’t even have his pistol. The middle of a fight was the wrong fucking time to bring that point up, but he made a mental note to maybe mention it later when things were mellowed. Not that it this situation called for its use at all- it didn’t- but he generally _did_ want it back. Especially if there was any chance in the world that their welcome here might expire, something Negan had never brought him to consider before. He was stupid not to even ask about it before now. 

"No, we can’t leave," he made himself growl out, his pride lassoed around the neck. "It's not that I’m not still thankful Negan, I am. I just didn’t-

Negan waved his hand nonchalantly and moved back into the living room, standing directly in front of Rick now. "I get what you're saying, Rick. Really. The world right now has got your kids confused enough, so of course you just don’t want to add onto that at all. You can’t control the mess out there but something like this- it’s an easy fix. I got cha."

Y-yeah, he guessed that was it. Partially at least. Why wasn’t this understanding there in the first place?

Negan grinned and clapped him in the shoulder, already back to his same old self. "Don’t you worry your pretty lil head none, I’ll help straighten it out, _Darlin'_."

Rick wasn’t certain what face he made, but Negan hooted with laughter. "Jeez, just a joke! Lighten up, Rick, _ple-ease_. It’s all gonna be a lot harder on us both if you can’t find a sense of humor."

X

Negan went back to calling Rick by his name over the next day or two, but there was a small point to his voice when he did it. He said it like it was a joke between them. Rick ignored it as best he could, not wanting to take the bait and risk another fight over it. He still had a hard time wrapping his mind around the last one.

Negan still joked around and was friendly with he and his kids in all the other normal ways, so Rick let it pass. 

Eventually the pointedness dwindled. 

Slowly, he started joking back again, relaxing once more as Negan pulled him into card games and invited him to watch some old westerns with he and Carl, knowing Rick liked stuff like that. 

It was all fine. The fight was becoming more or less forgotten with each passing day. 

Negan put on the hazmat suit and went out for another run at the end of the week. 

Rick didn’t mention it, but the barbs on Lucille were starting to crust up with blood and residue. The wood was stained a redder hue around the end.  _If it keeps him safe_ , Rick told himself, _that’s all that matters._

Negan had another successful trip; bringing back some comics and magazines for Carl and a diaper bag that had been packed full by someone. There was a bit of long-dried blood on the outside that Rick tried not to think about. He could guess with the monsters walking around out there.

Negan had pulled him aside in the kitchen while he had been going through it to see what could be used for Judith, the man sliding a paper bag over to him on the counter. His smile was infectious. "Got a lil something extra special for you too, had to break open a metal dispenser, but it’ll be well worth it." 

Rick opened up the paper bag to peek inside, his fingers going numb when he saw what was in it, dropping it on the counter, condoms spilling out. 

Negan gave a hissed curse, making sure Carl hadn’t seen before shoving them back into the bag and stuffing it into a cabinet for the time being. 

He looked pleased as punch with himself, standing there grinning like Rick should be too. 

Rick was pale, cold with the implications.

Things had been good between them again, and sometimes Negan would slip a suggestive crack in there. Sometimes Rick would blush or laugh it off in response. But bringing home condoms just seemed... like something had been finalized that Rick hadn’t even agreed to. Something he was nowhere near ready for. They hadn’t even kissed again since that one night... why did Negan think Rick would be pleased by this at all?

"A thank you wouldn’t go amiss here, Rick," Negan chuckled, "I did just go out risking my life again to bring home the bacon. Or at least… the sausage wrappers."

"Carl, take Judith and go to your room." Rick ordered, "Negan and I need to talk."

Carl looked a bit anxious at the sudden tension in his father’s voice, but eventually did as he was told.

"What the hell are those for?" Rick hissed once he was out of earshot, scowling at the man next to him at the counter.

Negan gave a whoop of laughter. "You _gotta_ be shittin’ me! Well, you do have two kids so maybe you’re not shittin’ me. Damn, been a while since I gave _the talk_ and then it was to a classroom of giggling teenagers, but shit, ok. Well Rick, when a mommy and a daddy love each other-

"You know that’s not what I’m asking!" Rick glared. "That’s not the sort of thing you just go and get without... you and I aren’t... _shit_ Negan, we're not anywhere close to ready for something like that!"

The man cocked an infuriating brow sardonically. "We're not?"

Before Rick could really lose his temper, Negan grabbed his shoulders in a light hold to try to calm him "Ok wait-"

Rick slapped Negan’s hands off of him. "Don’t touch me!"

It was a shock when right away Negan pushed him back much more firmly, Rick losing his balance and knocking into the counter, nearly dropping a crutch.

The man let him go just as quickly, not even acknowledging what had just happened, continuing to speak so calmly that Rick almost wondered if it had happened for real. "Just wait a moment Rick, I don’t want you getting’ the wrong idea about this, okay? If you're worried that I picked up condoms because I got anything, rest assured, I don’t and I wouldn’t hide that shit. I wouldn’t do that to you. I told you before too, I’m not looking to force you into anything. You say we're not there yet. Okay, -hey listen- not a problem! This isn’t a fight, it’s me being open with you and frankly trying to be responsible about it before we get to that point. We got time Rick. You might not be ready yet but we both know that there’s something there between us. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow- shit Rick, we can ease into it.”

Rick leaned back against the counter a bit, not too certain that Negan wouldn’t push him again if he tried to move away from him. “You just decided this on your own then? That there’s something between us? That it could even develop into something sexual?”

Negan scoffed at that. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. You _know_ there is. Don’t even try to fuckin’ lie to me on this point, Rick. That kiss- we both felt that shit before you lost your nerve. Try to look me in the eye and say it wasn’t there.”

It had been. At least for a little moment. Rick had felt something in that kiss. Not just in the kiss either. The times that things were good and relaxed between he and Negan, he really did enjoy the man’s company. He was charming when he wanted to be.

Negan’s smile softened a bit when Rick didn’t try to deny it, the guarded edge easing out of the corners. “These may not be ideal circumstances, but there’s potential here for something really great to come out of all this fuckery.”

Rick’s guard was still up, uncertain what to think of all this. His wariness and sentimentality were at odds with each other, but what Negan was saying didn’t seem too far outside of the world of rationality and responsible practicality. It was everything around that logic that was concerning. The way he had just shoved Rick was a fairly good example. Insinuating that their relationship was destined to develop into something of a sexual nature without ever seeking Rick’s opinion on the matter was another.

For as little as Rick liked to talk, he had noticed early on how much Negan _loved_ to, and he wasn’t done, still trying to reason it all out for Rick. “Besides, you gotta think about not just what’s best for yourself, but the kids too. Did you know that kids whose parents have a healthy sex life together go on to have healthier relationships and better self-esteem later in life? It’s fuckin’ true, Rick, I had to read enough sexual education pamphlets for my old job to know this shit. They’re also apt to be more open with their parents and make better decisions on their own when they get older. That sort of shit matters, that family stability means everything. Those kids deserve to have that stability back in their lives. It’s less confusing for them this way. You said yourself that you didn’t want them confused. This is best for their sakes too in the long run.”

That cold feeling was back. This time so strong and so pressing that Rick could only stare back at the man, mouth agape and a bit rattled by what all he was hearing. “Except you’re _not_ their parent, Negan,” he reminded him. As far as making things less confusing for them, the man had taken his words and twisted them so far outside the realm of reality that Rick’s head spun from it. He wanted to say as much, but something about the man’s face gave him pause after his first counter point.   

Negan actually looked hurt for a moment, a look that threw Rick as much as anything else he had said thus far. “Don’t say that shit, Rick, please. I know you’re not happy with me right now and I might not be their parent by blood, but I am the closest fuckin’ thing they got to someone taking care of them right now. Present company notwithstanding.”

Rick flinched, his pride and ego taking the blow head on.

“They eat _my_ food, they sleep in _my_ shelter, and they shit in _my_ toilet and- let’s face it, Darlin’- so do _you_. Unless you’re feeling all better and are ready to step up and play daddy again… shit, I’ve been more a parent to them in the past couple months than anyone. I take care of them as if they were my own. I take care of you too for that matter.”

He stepped away from Rick, just a little, shoving one of the bags he had brought back around the table restlessly as he looked Rick up and down with a glint in his eye. “I don’t really _do_ charities. I tend to just make sure I take care of what’s _mine_. But tell me, _Rick_ , are you not fuckin’ taken care of? Are your kids not taken care of? I want us to be clear on that so tell me now if I’m mistaken about it.”

Before Rick could gather his shaken thoughts and riled temper enough to come up with a suitable response, a muffled banging noise started up, drifting down to the kitchen from the door up the stairs. Both he and Negan froze, uncomprehending for a moment as they stared at the doorway of the kitchen. The banging noise grew in intensity.

Someone was banging on the outside door.

Rick’s breath caught in his throat and Negan grabbed a knife out of a butcher block on the counter, both men moving towards the door at the same time. “Just stay back,” Negan ordered, holding out a hand to keep Rick back as he hobbled forward on the crutches.

Like hell he would.

“Someone’s still _alive_ out there?” he gasped, more to himself than anyone else.

Negan didn’t answer, his eyes dark and focused entirely on the doorway. He opened it up slowly, leaning out to look up the stairwell. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight like a great cat stalking prey, taking slow calculated steps one in front of the other into the stairwell and up towards the outside door.

Rick hobbled along behind, stopping at the base to peer up. The banging hadn’t stopped, becoming more and more frantic in contrast to Negan’s slow and steady approach to the top. Once he reached the top steps, the noise stopped altogether.

Rick found himself holding his breath, watching Negan creep up to the door, looking out the small window set inside of it for the source.

He looked around but didn’t give any reaction to seeing anything.

“What is it?” Rick called up after the man.

Negan glanced back at his question, turning back to the window, a desperate face popping up into view from out of nowhere to fill it. “Jee-sus!” Negan cursed, jumping a bit.

Rick’s own heart felt like it had skipped a beat or two, given no reprieve as the person outside started pounding on the heavy steel door again. “Help me! Please! Please help! Open up! Dwight? Just open up! Please!”

Negan didn’t move, Rick leaned his crutches against the wall and gripped the railing tightly to start hopping his way up.

“Negan, they need help.”

Negan still didn’t move, the person just on the other side of the door still screaming and banging, crying desperately for him to help them.

“Negan!” Rick urged, nearly breathless but no less desperate as he reached the midway point of the steps.

The banging stopped, but the screams became unbearable and incoherent, the face disappearing from the little window as the person was pulled back by something Rick couldn’t yet see. He reached the top landing next to Negan, ready to try to open the door. Negan didn’t have to stop him, the sight that greeted him from the other side did. Four or five of those… those _walkers_ were outside. They were feeding. Blood and flesh were everywhere they shouldn’t have been, and more was scattered by teeth and nails as the person was devoured alive.

“Dad? What was that?”

Rick’s blood ran so cold he could have almost fainted, both he and Negan spinning around so fast at the sound of Carl calling up from the base of the stairs. “Back inside!” they both barked in unison.

Carl startled enough to bolt back inside the bunker, probably running back towards their room on the other side. Rick wished his son could have fled even further from what he was seeing.

Unable to look back out the window, Rick’s eyes stopped on Negan instead. “W-why didn’t you help them? If you had opened the door maybe-

Those hazel eyes were hard when they suddenly turned to Rick, the man’s stare able to shoot through him faster than any bullet. “Maybe we would be dead too then, Rick,” Negan seethed. “Maybe those things would have pushed their way in here with whoever that ugly bastard was. I didn’t see the freaks at first, maybe they would have taken us by surprise. Or maybe this person could have been bait, trying to get us to open the door so that he and his buddies could break in here and kill us for all we have, try to claim everything that’s _mine_. Ask me again why I didn’t open the door if you don’t understand why yet. Otherwise, if you get it, if you’re just thankful that it’s not you or God-forbid one of your kids out there in that bastard’s place then don’t fuckin’ ask me why I didn’t open it up. Don’t ask me the next time either. I fuckin’ _won’t_ , Rick, you can safely bet your life on it.”

Rick wasn’t able to meet Negan’s eyes, terrified at the mere mention of his children being out there when the screams had just stopped. Maybe Negan hadn’t been wrong to refuse help, considering everything at stake… but that didn’t make it _right_ either and Rick was torn once more with the conflict on his conscious that he and his children were still safe while he had watched a man die. Another part of him was just sickeningly grateful. After all, someone else was always better than Carl, or Judith.

“Come on, those things will walk off eventually,” Negan urged, gesturing for Rick to accept his help in returning down the stairs.

Rick didn’t move at first, having looked out the little window again. He hadn’t been able to see anything outside since first waking up here. It was still as gloom and doom as it had been then, but what caught and held his eye was the sight of the vehicle Negan used on his runs. It was an old shabby-looking thing, but still plenty big and mean; heavy duty even for a truck.

Rick just kept staring at the front of it for reasons he couldn’t even understand, jarred from it only when Negan gripped his shoulder firmly. His voice was gentle when he spoke again into Rick’s ear. “Your kids are waiting for you, Rick. I think we maybe scared Carl. Let’s go.”

The mention of his children got Rick’s attention, turning and allowing Negan to loop his arm up around his broad shoulders so he could help him down the stairs.

Rick nearly fell when they were halfway down, his legs giving out and a cold sweat breaking upon him as the air left his lungs. He was fairly certain he knew that truck.

“Je-sus Darlin’, you okay?” Negan cursed as he struggled to keep them both up. He looked over Rick with a glance that was both worried and critical.

He knew that truck.

He knew that truck!

Rick saw something sharpen in Negan’s eyes, something that scared him enough to jumpstart a cover for why he was spooked like he was. “I’ve never seen that before- those _things_ just… the way they tore into that guy-   

Negan’s gaze softened considerably. He was very caring as he leaned Rick against the stairwell and tilted his chin up to meet those intense hazel eyes. “I know, Darlin’, I know. But you’re safe and the kids are safe and that’s all that matters. I don’t plan to let anyone or anything touch so much as a curl upon your pretty little head ever again.” He leaned in a little closer, and Rick could only continue to stare as that familiar grin that was way too self-satisfied given the current situation spread over the man’s face. “Like I said, Rick, I take care of what’s mine.”

Rick felt a shiver run through him as the man leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his forehead. It felt like a stamp of ownership upon his brow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated, thank you everyone for the kudos.  
> This is just the beginning.


	5. Chapter 5

_Rick was panicked. He was throwing his family into the car, trying to get them out of danger. They were in so much danger after all, monsters already seen roving just down the damn block. The car moved through the streets like the roads were nothing but sticky sludge, more and more of those things surrounding the slow car._

_Soon the monsters were all around and Rick felt terror at the realization that this was it, they were going to all be killed._

_He looked over to Lori. She had just been sitting next to him, talking nonchalantly about Carl’s grades. She was gone now, her seat empty even though the doors were still locked. Panicked, he looked back to Carl and Judith in the back seat, still there._

_Carl thanked him for the ride to school and went to open up the door. Rick tried to throw himself in the back to stop his son from blindly stepping out into the danger waiting for him. The monsters clawed at the window next to his son’s head, trying to get at him. He didn’t even notice, so absorbed in his Gameboy._

_There was a firm hand on Rick’s shoulder, pulling him back from stopping Carl. “He’s safe, Rick,” Negan assured him from where he sat in the passenger seat, giving Rick an easy grin. “I think he’ll be great out there. Have a good day at school, killer. Take Lucille with you.”_

_Carl gave a final goodbye and picked up Lucille, taking the bat with him as he slid out of the car._

_The monsters weren’t interested in him anymore, too focused on a different victim standing in front of the car. They encircled and grabbed Lori, and Rick watched in horror as she let out a scream so loud it echoed through his head._

_He looked away, unable to watch what was about to happen, turning his head to the left. From out his window truck lights filled his vision before smashing into the car._

Rick woke up so fast he was still terrified, covered in a cold sweat so bad that it had soaked his sheets and mattress.

Carl and Judith were still sleeping soundly upon Carl’s mattress, and Rick desperately dragged himself over close enough so he could run his hand over their cheeks, feeling Carl’s hair and Judith’s soft breath puffing out of her tiny nose. He just needed to know they were safe. He pressed a kiss to Carl’s head, the boy stirring a bit, but Rick urged him to go back to sleep and the child did so almost instantly.

Rick wasn’t going to get back to sleep anytime soon, too rattled by his nightmare. It was the same one he had had for the last two nights since watching someone get torn apart.

Rick hadn’t been able to shake a few persistently dark thoughts from his head in that time, more and more popping up throughout the day whenever he was least expecting them.

That truck, the one parked outside. He couldn’t be absolutely undoubtably certain, but given the size of it and the approximate shape, it looked to be around the same size of the truck that haunted Rick’s last conscious thoughts before waking up here. He couldn’t be certain, however, a lot of big trucks owned in the area and having seen more headlight than truck at the time. He didn’t _want_ it to be the same truck.

Negan had never said anything about the person that had hit them; was it possible he had been more than just a passing motorist?

Even if it had been that truck that hit them, if _Negan_ had hit them, did that change anything? It would have been an accident either way. Rick was the one who caused it, cutting out into traffic and not paying attention to the road. Would it overrule the fact that he had tried to do the right thing afterwards, getting Rick and his children to safety? Did it make it count for less if maybe it was a heroic act born of guilt rather than compassion? If it was Negan’s truck that hit them, was the guilt of Lori having lost her life in the accident what kept him from having said anything about it to Rick thus far?

Rick didn’t know, he just didn’t know. He hadn’t found the chance to ask Negan about it either.

That was a lie, he hadn’t found the _courage_ to ask. He didn’t know if he was strong enough for the answer if it turned out the man that saved them had also accidentally been at fault for Lori’s-

That was another lie. Even if he had been the one that hit them, Negan wasn’t at fault for Lori’s death. Rick had been the one driving. He had taken his eyes off the road. It was his fault.

Rick dragged himself off of the mattress, grabbing his crutches. He was starting to really hate the damn things, as grateful for them as he was.

 _Why did Negan even have these here?_ His mind prodded him. Rick shook his head like that would send the unfairly accusing thoughts from it. He was just agitated from his nightmare and the truck and unfairly throwing around wild accusations for things that were no one’s fault in his mind out of frustration with the situation. The man had been decently stocked on a wide variety of different medical supplies. Crutches were fairly easy to find at any salvation store. They were no more suspicious than the IV drips that had been stored down here for emergencies.

_Convenient, though._

Rick hobbled his way down the hall, testing weight on his leg a bit every now and then. It was far less painful these days in general, not flaring up every time he moved an inch. Putting weight on it was still painful, but indirectly he could do it for a bit. Walking was still probably a month off. Running maybe two.

_You’re stuck here till then._

Rick took a breath at himself, abashed at his own mind. They were _lucky_ , not _stuck_.

Leaving wasn’t an option even without his leg, those monsters were still out there waiting.

 _If that’s what’s really keeping you here than you_ are _stuck. You want to leave, you just can't go_.

“No,” Rick tried to convince himself. Negan had been good to them. He was a bit hard to predict at times, and he seemed to have certain expectations towards Rick that they hadn’t gotten to hash out properly yet… misconceptions really, but that wasn’t reason enough to want to leave.

_He wouldn’t let you. You’re his, he takes care of you all because you’re his._

“Shut up,” Rick snapped, keeping his voice a whisper so he didn’t risk disturbing the man in question from his sleep as he hobbled into the living area.

Rick nearly had a heart attack to see Negan standing in the living room already, dressed in just an undershirt and underwear. It was the middle of the night. He had been hoping to get some water, still shaken and damp from sweat, maybe even sponge off in the bathroom sink. Negan looked perfectly composed, fully awake.

He smirked a bit at Rick’s surprise. “That’s not very nice, Rick. I haven’t even said nothin’ and you’re already tellin’ me to shut up?”

Rick didn’t realize at first what he was talking about. He gave a shake of his head. “That’s not- what are you doing up?”

“I was gonna check in on you and the kids,” Negan shrugged pleasantly, moving a few steps closer. Steps that made Rick uneasy, though he held his ground.

“You do that often?” was all he could think to ask.

Negan’s smile slipped just a bit, his eyes serious with concern as he looked Rick over. “It’s not really a secret that the lot of you suffer from nightmares. Sometimes yeah, just to make sure you’re all okay, I might take a peek.”

He supposed that was probably well intentioned, but he still wasn’t fond of the idea at the moment. Unable to express any gratitude for the gesture, he merely pressed his lips and refrained from saying anything.

“You had another one?” Negan guessed. “You look like you damn near went swimmin’, Darlin’.”

Rick shot a glare at the man. He had told him before he didn’t like that nickname. It was starting to find its way back into the man’s vocabulary anyway.

Negan ignored the glare, jerking his head back over his shoulder. “You can use the shower if you want, better than a little sink wash in the bathroom anyway. I can make some coffee for us, while you do, and then maybe afterwards we can talk if you're up for it,” he offered.

He was being nice, and Rick felt some of his guard easing, chastising himself for being so unfairly wary of the man who had been doing his best for them. “I- coffee sounds good, but I don’t need to take up your shower. I’ll just-

“Nonsense, Rick,” Negan grinned, “Nothin’ better than a hot spray to ease you after a nightmare. Coffee will be ready by the time you’re done.”

It was a battle Rick was willing to lose, the thought of a shower singing sweetly to him. “Ok- thank you, Negan.”

That smile only widened as Rick shuffled past the man to the master bedroom.

Rick made sure to shower quickly, indeed glad for the spray. He had just gotten relaxed and moderately forgetful of his nightmares when the bedroom door clicked open, jarring him from his calm.

“Almost done!” Rick insisted, snapping off the shower spray, assuming that Negan would wait in the kitchen for him to come out so long as he knew he was okay. Probably just checking up yet again. 

Rick felt his face flush with embarrassment and irritation as the door swung open further and he could hear the man come into the room anyway. The semi-clear plastic of the shower curtain between them was hardly enough to make him feel anything other than completely indecent as he stood dripping wet and cupping himself for modesty. Every swear word he knew ran through his head as he leaned his weight against the shower wall and waited.

He could see the general outline of Negan entering the room, carrying what was likely two coffee mugs over to his bed-side table. Rick could hear the ceramic clink as he set them down. “Brought you some more painkillers, as well as a sleeping pill if you want it. I hope you don’t mind, but the coffee is decaf, and instant. You really should try to get some more sleep tonight if you can manage it.”

He didn’t need to come in here for that. “Just leave them on the table- thanks,” Rick tacked on, wanting the man to leave so he could stop shivering for a towel.

Negan did no such thing, crossing over towards the shower, his expression obscured by the curtain.

Rick grew tenser with each step, but had nowhere to run. He watched with a dropping stomach as Negan picked up the towel he had been planning to use, unfolding it like _he_ meant to use it. “Don’t be shy, Rick, I’ll help you get around and then you can go to bed.” He drew back the curtain and Rick flinched as the man came into sharp clarity as it slid out of the way.

"Negan!"

Those eyes were roaming, taking in everything he could see, lingering where he couldn’t. At first it might have been assessing, judging the bruising of Rick's leg and all his other scrapes that had managed to heal up, but it turned appreciating the more Rick shivered and blushed, trying to turn himself away from Negan, but then those eyes would just settle on skin previously kept out of view.

“Negan, get out!” Rick growled, feeling small and trapped and frustrated.

Something flashed through the man’s eyes, and suddenly that grin that Rick was starting to find less and less friendly was back as he chuckled in amusement. “This is my room, Rick. You can’t kick me out of my own room.”

“I don’t need your help!” he insisted, getting really angry now.

“Now there is the fuckin’ lie of the century,” Negan chuckled before all amusement dropped from his face. “You’re real cute and all, Darlin’, but I got to say, the lies like that get tiresome. You’re getting a real bad habit with them of late. Saying things you don’t mean. Things you know damn well ain’t true. No more of them, ya hear? Now come on, let’s get you dried off.”

Rick didn’t budge. All he could do was glare obstinately at the faucet while he continued to drip, his curls plastered around his head in a reminder of how long they were getting.

Negan let out a sigh like Rick was the one being a pain, stepping up to the shower with the towel held up to wrap around him. “You can be the most difficult- watch the leg now.”

Rick’s whole body was tense as the towel wrapped around his shoulders, Negan’s hands rubbing over him through it to dry him off. He was keenly aware of every finger placement as the man patted him dry. He closed his eyes when the towel left his shoulders for his hips. Those hands rubbed down his legs and hips gently, quickly enough to feel like they were more about drying him off until they came to rest over Rick’s ass. There they moved slower, more purposefully through the towel, touching rather than patting and Rick felt on fire when the towel moved just a little between the crack of his cheeks.

He jerked away, grabbing a corner of the towel to dry off his own privates and thighs before considering himself ready to get out.

He reached for his crutches, but Negan grabbed his arm and threw it over his shoulder instead, reminding Rick again to watch the leg as he pulled him out of the shower, guiding him a little bit forcefully away from them and over towards the bed.

Rick burned with embarrassment and trepidation as Negan lowered him to sit on the edge of the bed. Negan’s bed.

Rick did not want to be sitting naked on the man’s bed, but the choice wasn’t looking to be his own as the man dared to reach out and ruffle his damp hair as if he had been a child acting up. Rick jerked away and grabbed a pillow, pulling it into his lap to cover himself. “Such a grumpy fuckin’ guss when you’re in pain and low on sleep. I guess that’s fair though, a little more of one and less of the other will help your mood immensely.”

He picked up a few pills and one of the coffee mugs he had first brought in from the table next to Rick, holding out both for him to take. Rick picked them up, though reluctantly.

Negan watched him like a hawk over his own mug as he took a drink. “Come on now, Rick, while it’s still warm. It’s too late in the night for this kind of misbehavin’.”

Every red flag was raised up high and Rick felt like maybe he hadn’t actually woken up from his nightmare after all. Rick looked over the pills carefully, sorting out what he knew was Ibeprophene and refusing the one that wasn’t. The sleeping pill. Negan said nothing about it as he put that one back on the bedside table. Rick took a sip of the coffee because of the way Negan was still standing over him, but he didn’t actually want it anymore.

He had been a fool. This wasn’t right. Nothing about this was right.

There was something about Negan that was pushy to the point of bullying, able to change his mood faster than the weather, aggressive when confronted, and downright manipulative for better or worse. It wasn’t that Negan wasn’t without his good points, but Rick had been a fool to not see one side of him for the other for this long. And now to be in such a compromised position, literally caught with his pants off and separated from his crutches, sitting on the man’s bed as he towered over him…

“What’s on your mind, Sweet Cheeks?” Negan drawled, his smile somewhere between teasing and lazy, so self-assured.

He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of Rick. A manipulator could read and redirect a reaction, as Rick had learned on the force. Assertive silence or short answers were usually a good combative.

Rick couldn’t really voice the truth of the matter anyway. It wasn’t like he could grab his kids and go, as the man had been so keen to make him acknowledge before. He had dealt with men or women like Negan a few times in his years of patrol. Charismatic and charming, they could talk their way out of any ticket, say anything to get their way. When they didn’t… it was usually the people around them that suffered for it, to some extent or another. It was not knowing to what extents that could lead to with Negan that kept Rick’s mouth shut.

“Speak when you are spoken to, Rick,” Negan pushed, unassuaged. “What’s knockin’ around that pretty head of yours so hard?”

Being up front with Negan would just lead to more aggression and bullying if history was any indication. “That man, the one that came here the other night, he didn’t have a hazmat suit on, he was just out there.” The man from the other night was something he had been mulling over as well, and right now it was the only thing he could think to say to excuse his silence to the man who was clearly seeking a reaction to the compromising position they were currently in so he could start turning it around under the guise of reason.   

Negan cocked a brow and it was clear he didn’t believe that was why Rick was standoffish and frustrated now. After a moment of consideration, he took another drink and let some of the tension between them ease a bit. “All the more reason to have not let him in.”

“What I’m sayin’ is, if what was happening out there was viral, wouldn’t he have turned into one of those things already? It’s been a couple months now. If he was getting around maybe the hazmat suit isn’t as necessary as we thought? You only have the one, but if that’s the case maybe once my leg’s better I could- maybe I could go out there too.”

A part of him cringed to even suggest it, not wanting to go out there after seeing that man ripped apart right in front of the door. Negan went out once a week, however, and he survived. If Rick could too then maybe…

He didn’t even know what that could mean, but it gave more possibilities than he had now. Maybe it meant finding other survivors. Maybe it meant being able to go if they had to. Maybe it at least meant his children not living and dying underground for the rest of their lives.

Negan was watching him closely, finishing off his coffee mug and setting it down on the table next to Rick sharply enough that the _bang_ made him jump a bit. “Maybe he was already infected,” Negan suggested. “A carrier. Maybe if you went out there you would be too. Is that a chance you want to take, Rick? Go out there and then find out later that it’s in you.”

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t have thought it safe for anyone to still be out there if it were viral.” He glanced up to Negan, trying not to seem accusing. “You never saw anyone else alive out there? In all this time, never anything to suggest it?”

“Nope,” Negan shrugged, emphasizing the ‘P’ sound in the word. “And others surviving and walking around out there isn’t necessarily a good thing, Rick. Anyone running around out there likely has less than us, so you can imagine what they might do to get what we have here. What would you do, Darlin’, if you were out there with Carl and Judith and wanted in here? If I hadn’t brought you here- could you even imagine what you might be desperate enough to do, wishin’ you were all in here?”

Rick could see what Negan was aiming at with such a question, meaning to drive it home again that gratitude that he felt had been waning of late. It could almost work, Rick feeling like that wasn’t entirely untrue and that compared to some- like the man outside- that he had a lot to still be grateful for when it came to Negan, but he hated how Negan held that over him, trying to lead him around by it like a choke chain.

“Honestly, how would I ever be able to guess this was here, Negan? It doesn’t seem from the construction that there’s much more than a door above the ground, maybe a few vents or pipes… it’s surprising that man would have ever bothered with the door.” It was something else that had been bothering Rick, the fact that the man had tried so hard to get in the door, banging on it like he knew something was down here, braving the walkers to get to it when there didn’t seem to be much else around them.

Negan shrugged it off, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lots of country homes have storm shelters, Rick. He probably assumed this was one. I would think anyone else would go down into those if they didn’t have an actual bunker. Desperation can make most anything seem like a beacon of hope.”

It had all happened so fast, but looking back, it hadn’t seemed like a random shot in the dark that the man had been taking, but there was something in Negan’s face that warned Rick he was getting impatient with the line of questioning. There was an opening for him that Negan had made, however, and Rick took the opportunity. “I can only imagine. Actually, that man trying to get in here like that… it got me thinking of what would have happened if he had come while you were gone. What if anyone else comes? If someone got through that door somehow… I think I’d feel better if I could have my gun and holster back. Keep this place just a little more secure when you’re gone on runs.”

He had been casual in asking about it, but the silence that followed was thick. Negan didn’t move at all for a few moments. When Rick glanced up, the man’s mouth kicked back into an easy smirk, his stance softening. “Not a problem, Darlin’, but we can worry about it later, when I’m actually going out. Unless it’s important that you have it tonight,” he joked.

Something about it seemed more like a dare than a joke, daring Rick to insist on it. Rick forced a tight smile onto his own lips. “N-no, I don’t think it’s important tonight, but it will be nice to have it back. Been feeling a bit naked without-

He cut himself off as soon as he realized what he said- the fact that he was currently very literally naked dawning on him once more and making him blush from ears to balls. Negan laughed so hard and loud that Rick worried his kids might wake, only growing redder.

“Oh Darlin’, that _was_ good,” he chuckled once he got a hold of himself enough to speak, shaking his head like Rick was just adorable. “Though the idea of you wearing nothin’ but a holster and gun though… I don’t know if it would make you feel any less naked, but _damn_ if it’s not without its appeal.”

Rick set his coffee mug aside, ready to get out of there. Past ready. He jerked his chin towards where his crutches were leaning against the wall across the room. “I’m gonna head to bed.”

“You’re in bed already. You’re fine to sleep here tonight. It’s not a problem.”

It was.

Rick shook his head, willing to hop over to his crutches if he had to. As he started to stand up, however, Negan pushed him back down and he hissed as pain shot up his hip.

“Careful there, Darlin’, don’t hurt yourself now. Actually, it’s overdue, you stayin’ in here, but I know you’re always wantin’ to stay close to the kids in case they have more night terrors. They’ll be fine for the rest of the night tonight.”

Suddenly Rick knew without a doubt that he hadn’t been the one to make his way into Negan’s bed before, the breath leaving his body as he turned that over in his mind. His attention was pulled back to the present when the man stepped closer, reaching past Rick to grab the covers and pull them down for him, intention clear for him to slip in. “You said you wouldn’t force it,” Rick blurted, anxious and desperate for the man to back off.

Negan’s eyes bore into him like he had just taken a swing at him, pissed off and unbelieving, nearly ready to swing back. There was a pregnant moment in which they sized each other up. Negan broke it, his voice low and steady. “And I never fuckin’ will. That’s not the kind of guy I am. This isn’t sex, Rick. It’s just sharin’ a fuckin’ bed. When it happens, and it eventually will, it will be you coming to _me_. In the meantime, nothin’ wrong with you just sleepin’ here. Like I said before, it will be better and easier in the long run for you to meet me part way here. Less confusing for the kids. Less confusing for _you_ , Rick.”

Rick didn’t move. He barely breathed. Negan lifted the sheets, making it clear that he expected Rick to slide in and lay down. Still Rick couldn’t bring himself to move, shocked and conflicted to his core.

“Rick,” Negan prompted, his tone much sharper, a warning in his voice.

Slowly, every inch feeling like a loss, Rick slid under the covers. His spine might as well have been a steel pipe for how tense he was, but Negan seemed pleased enough as he tucked in the covers over the man. “Att’a boy. Snug as a bug!”

Rick still didn’t dare move as Negan turned off the light and moved around to the other side of the bed. He could hardly even comprehend what was happening. His eyes landed and locked on his crutches against the far wall, wishing he could grab them and go. Not that he had anywhere he _could_ go that Negan couldn’t follow.

Negan slid his undershirt off, left in just his underwear, but Rick was glad for that at least when he kept those on, sliding in on the other side. He kept on his side, not touching Rick, and that was another thing he was grateful for. He couldn’t help but wonder, however, how long before that got pushed as well.

“Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite cha in the ass,” Negan chuckled, settling in for sleep.

Rick only made the smallest of noise in acknowledgement, still staring down his crutches.

 _Do you still think it just luck that he had those?_ His mind dogged him. _Maybe it’s just lucky for him that you can’t run anywhere._

Rick tried to close his eyes against the worse thoughts his mind could conjure, the ones that whispered to him, _maybe it wasn’t a matter of luck at all that your leg broke._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone that is still here for the continued interest.  
> Please let me know your thoughts if you have a moment.


	6. Chapter 6

"He gonna forgive my sins"

Devil is Fine by Zeal & Ardor

 

* * *

 

 

Rick woke the next day to Negan taking a shower of his own, singing to himself under the spray. Some clothes had been set out for Rick on the bed from Negan’s own dresser. He had been borrowing for a while now, which was why he knew they were for him, but he really wanted his own clothes again, torn up and bloody as they had been when he had first woken up. Those had had to be thrown out in the first week. Something was better than nothing, however, and so he had slipped them on quickly. Negan’s clothes were a little tight on his hips, a little loose on his shoulders, but otherwise they were comparable sizes enough that it never was a big issue.

He made good on his intent from the other night to hop across the room to grab his crutches, nearly falling back when Negan punched back the curtain as he grabbed them. Grinning out at him in all his naked glory, Negan’s smile was sunny and fully amused with Rick as the man flustered and stumbled, barely getting hold of the crutches. “Mornin’ Darlin’! Glad you slept through the rest of the night just fine. Maybe all you needed was a night in a real bed.”

Rick tried to keep his expression composed, not wanting to show the man any blood in the water. “I’m gonna see about breakfast for Carl and Judith.” He wasn’t running away with his tail between his legs, he told himself.

Negan’s grin spread like he could read Rick’s very thoughts, but gave a short nod of his head. “Okay, cereal it is then. Try not to burn the house down pourin’ those Cheerios.”

Rick just turned and hobbled out of the bedroom as fast as he could, Negan’s singing something about ‘Easy Street’ following him out.  

Rick poured some cereal, unable to do much else. He wasn’t certain what else he could do at that moment. If the world was different, he knew without a doubt he would have grabbed his kids and left. Gotten away from Negan and the possessiveness and ownership of Rick and his kids that he seemed to feel entitled to.

The world was what it was, however, and the fact was that until Rick’s leg healed they weren’t able to go anywhere. Negan wasn’t going to go anywhere either. With a few more months till Rick could even consider getting them out of here, he knew he had to come up with some sort of plan in the meantime. Negan had promised him his gun back the next time he went out, which was progress even if it had come at a price last night.

He would need more progress, access to maps or supplies, would need to figure out where exactly they were so he could figure out where they might even go. If they even could go- Rick derailed that train of thought before it could leave the station. They couldn’t stay here with Negan.

Progress with Negan, however, was sure to come with more costs, but Rick was starting to realize it could cost them all far more in the long run to stay. Someone like Negan might appear to give freely, but they always sought to collect doubly in some way, shape or form. Rick and his children had very little left, but he wasn’t willing to part with everything Negan could yet still take from them. He would have to toe the line to keep Negan off his back while he figured out what to do.

Carl made his way into the kitchen before Negan did, surprised to see his dad up before him. He must have assumed Rick had just gotten up early rather than never returning to bed, because he said nothing but a sleep-mumbled “G’mornin’.”

Judith was crawling along behind him eagerly, taking up a habit to follow Carl from room to room most of the time now.

“Mornin’.” Rick returned stiffly.

Judith gave a babble and Rick couldn’t help but pull his son against him in a hug, wanting to hold him until he could convince himself everything would be alright. They didn’t have that kind of time, however, and Carl was more keen to eat than hug.

Judith pulled herself up over the step-up into the kitchen, Rick understanding all too deeply now how difficult it could be to get around and proud of his baby girl for all her progress. He needed to work on his own too.

Negan stepped out a few minutes later, clad in a pair of jeans but nothing else, his chest hair still wet in the kitchen light. He greeted Carl and Judith in the same jubilant manner as always, picking up Judith from the floor to give her a kiss and carry her on his hip over to the refrigerator to get out one of her pre-mixed bottles from the night prior.

Rick watched him more closely than he normally would have, but for all his wariness there was nothing about Negan’s actions that suggested anything that Rick now knew to be hiding just under the surface. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was just an Oscar worthy performance, or if some of it might actually be genuine. It was nearly impossible to tell.

Rick tensed when Negan noticed him looking and tossed him a teasing smile, stepping into Rick’s space and placing a kiss against his cheek. “Don’t you just look cute as hell today,” he winked.

He was pushing again already, testing boundaries and compliance. They both knew it.

Rick glanced over to Carl, seeing his son watching them curiously. They would need to talk, but now wasn’t the time.

He ducked away from Negan, but didn’t berate him for the unwanted affection, which only made the man chuckle before going back to feeding Judith, bouncing her on his hip and making faces for her amusement.

X

A few days later Rick was in a much better mood, looking forward to the prospect of Negan going out for the first time. It would give him some time to himself, children not counting in that, which was a rare commodity these days. He would also get his firearm back, and whether he meant to use it or not, he would feel more secure to have it.

He had been lucky the last few nights, able to return to his mattress on the floor of the back room with Carl and Judith rather than being further confined to Negan’s bedroom. The man had offered it, and Rick had declined as politely as he possibly could, nervous that the man might insist anyway. Negan made his displeasure known in the tense way he would silently mull it over, agreeing only when Rick was fairly certain he would try to grab him and haul him in there by force.

“A few more days with the kids won’t hurt,” Negan had agreed, though it was clear that was borrowed time that Rick was getting.

Last night Rick had woken up in the middle of the night, and though nothing had been amiss, every hair on his body had stood on end when he could have sworn he heard movement out in the hall leading to their room. He had sat in perfect silence for a long time without hearing anything more, but somewhere deep inside of him he knew that Negan wasn’t asleep. _He just knew._

He wanted his gun back.

Negan was nearly insufferable at the table during breakfast that morning, talking with Carl about what to keep an eye out for on his runs and joking about what souvenirs he might bring back for the boy- dried cow pies, a decayed rabbit’s foot… maybe a monster’s tooth. Rick dared to shoot him a look that said he better not, making the man laugh uproariously.

Negan eventually- finally- went back into his bedroom to get Lucille and get ready to go out, and Rick couldn’t help but follow after him, feeling just a bit foolish as the image of a housewife following around her husband before work popped unfairly into his mind.

Negan gave him a knowing look once he was ready, slinging the bat over his shoulder and stepping into Rick’s space like he owned it with a grin. He had to know what Rick was waiting for. “Come to give me a kiss good-bye, Darlin’?”

Rick flushed a bit- he couldn’t help it- but held the man’s gaze. “You said I could have my gun back when you went out. In case something was to happen,” he tacked on.

Negan licked his lip, thinking it over. “Did I?”

Rick’s pulse kicked up, his mouth going dry at the thought that the man might have changed his mind, but he knew damn well that Negan remembered. He wouldn’t take the bait.

“You’re right, Rick, I suppose I did. Well, far be it from me to go back on my word. Let me get that. Go ahead and close your eyes Darlin’, Papa’s got a surprise for ya,” he laughed.

Rick didn’t want to play, but Negan didn’t move until he relented and closed his eyes. The man shuffled around the room a little, the sound of a bedside drawer opening and closing. Rick’s heart sank to think it had been in the unlocked drawer right next to him the whole night he had slept here. It was downright cruel.

He kept his eyes closed until Negan was standing before him once more, not wanting to give the man any reason at this point to back out of the deal. Negan hummed in approval at his obedience. “Okay, now open up and say ‘Ahh’.”

Rick’s eyes snapped open at the strange fucking request when he had been expecting a gun, worried he might get a barrel in his mouth. Negan indeed had his pistol in his hand, but he let out a jackass laugh at the look on Rick’s face. “Just jokin’, Baby, I would never actually! I’m not quite _that_ kinky. Okay, okay, I apologize, deal’s a deal.”

He handed over the gun and Rick let out a shaky sigh of relief the instant the weight was in his hand. First thing he did out of habit was check the magazine, face falling to see it empty. It had been full. Negan chuckled again when he turned accusing eyes up to him. “I didn’t promise you bullets, cowboy. Kind of dangerous with the kids around and all anyway. Safer this way.”

“But- but if anyone were to show up…” It was the only bargaining chip Rick could really play, but Negan was unmoved.

“Just brandishing a gun around is usually enough to make anybody think twice about busting in here. The only ones that will know you don’t have any ammo are you, and me. Besides, aren’t officers trained to defend themselves with everything else before their gun? You’re hardly defenseless. In any case, I won’t be going too far today. I should be back in an hour. When I plan to go further out we can talk about bullets.”

Rick wanted to rage at the man, his temper painting him redder than any blush. He wanted to scream how this was bullshit, demand that Negan make good on the agreement he had been expecting all this time. Another part of him just wanted the man to go already, not wanting him anywhere in his sight anymore.

Maybe he could find the bullets while the man was out.

“Now then,” Negan prompted, dropping his voice to a purr as he leaned in closer to Rick. “How about that kiss goodbye?”

Rick felt like he would nearly choke on his outrage as he swallowed it down, afraid Negan might take the gun back after he had waited so long to get it.

Negan stood before him, clearly willing to wait him out. Something dark crept into those hazel eyes of his. “Only if you want to of course,” he grinned, tongue running out along his lip teasingly.

Rick’s skin crawled, but he worried he might not get to keep the gun after Negan got back if the man was going to nit-pick like this. Those dark eyes were already starting to drift down to the pistol in Rick’s hands like he was considering it. Rick stiffly leaned forward an inch or two.

Negan didn’t close the distance, pointedly waiting for Rick to do so.

It was the worst kiss of Rick’s life, nothing more than an awkward bump of lips that still made his swallowed anger bubble in his stomach.

Negan chuckled, but let it be. Next time Rick was fairly certain he wouldn’t be so lucky. The man could never help but push further and further. “Try to stay out of trouble. Maybe see about shaving this,” he suggested as he ran a couple fingers over the short beard of Rick’s jaw. “See you soon, Darlin’.”

Rick waited a few minutes after Negan had pulled on the hazmat suit and left, listening for the sound of the door up the stairs to open up once more if the man should change his mind. It seemed like something he might do.

Once Rick was certain that Negan would be gone for at least a while, he tucked his gun into the back of his waist band and went back into the kitchen, seeing Carl sitting on the couch, Judith napping on his chest as he played his Gameboy behind her back. “Carl!” Rick whispered urgently, not keen to wake Judith but needing to speak to his son.

Carl wasn’t willing to wake Judith either, trying to move as little as possible as he leaned up to peer over the back of the couch. He actually rolled his eyes when he saw Rick waving him over to the kitchen.

Rick didn’t take it to heart, knowing his son wasn’t aware of the urgency of the situation. Carl set his game aside with a sigh and slowly got up, cringing with every fuss Judith made as she was shifted up as well and carried over, draped on his little shoulder. “What?”

“I need your help with something, and… and Negan can’t know about it.”

That had his son’s attention, Carl frowning in confusion. “Is something up? He’s been really weird around you lately…”

Rick wasn’t certain how to answer that, exactly. He didn’t want to leave his son in the dark, but he didn’t want to scare him either. “Just… if he asks you personal questions about me or anything about what goes on while he’s gone, I need you to not answer him. I also need you to be careful of how much time you’re spending with him…okay?” He knew it was vague as hell, that it didn’t make any sense. He wished he could do better, but he really didn’t want to scare the twelve-year-old.

Carl was staring at him with a gaze beyond his years, like he was sliding together a puzzle he didn’t fully understand yet, but was letting instinct lead him through it. Rick felt bad that his young son could have that kind of look already. “Okay,” was all he said.

“Okay good, I also need to find out where this place is located. I need you to keep an eye out for any addresses or maps laying around.”

Carl perked up at that. “I saw some old bills in one of the boxes around here a while back. I don’t remember which, but I could probably find them again.”

Rick clapped him encouragingly on the shoulder. “Okay great. There’s one more thing I need from you, Carl. I’m not fast on these,” he nodded down towards his crutches. “I’m gonna try to get back to walking as soon as I can, but I need your help before Negan gets back here with one more thing.”

Carl only stared up at him, but he was taking in every word, his complete attention upon his father.

“I need you to search through Negan’s bedroom a bit, very carefully. He can’t know you were looking at all. I need you to see if you can find my bullets.” He wanted them back, but now wasn’t the time to take them if Negan planned to keep them from him still. Later on if he needed them, however, he didn’t want to be without the knowledge of where they were.

Carl’s stare on him was far more weighted, his understanding a little deeper than Rick was comfortable with, but still without conclusion yet. Something on Rick’s face must have convinced him of the necessity of it, however, because he blessedly didn’t argue for once. He nodded wordlessly in agreement and slowly handed Judith off to Rick, passing by him to enter Negan’s bedroom. Rick stood in the doorway to watch over his son. He hated himself for even asking this of the boy, but he was physically incapable of running out of there if Negan came back like Carl could.

The first place he had Carl look were the drawers on either side of the bed. His son turned up nothing on the side Rick had slept on. When he had checked Negan’s, his face had scrunched up in confusion, telling Rick that there were just a bunch of little square foil packages and a weird pink rod with a bunch of buttons on the bottom of it.

Realizing what the hell his son was describing Rick demanded he close the drawer and move on, turning red all the way down his shirt as he said a prayer that Carl wouldn’t understand what he had seen even later in life. Carl searched carefully through all the dresser drawers, turning up nothing there. There was also a small bookcase with odds and ends, Carl picking through the few books on it and a couple trinket boxes when they heard the sound of the door unlocking up the stairs, both freezing for a moment.

“Carl!” Rick hissed, feeling his heart race as his son started carefully but quickly putting back what he had pulled out so none would be the wiser.

The door upstairs was opening, Negan’s feet hitting the top stair. Carl could make it out at a run, but the man would surely hear him sprinting from his bedroom. Carl got up, ready to bolt as those footsteps came down the stairs.

Unable to think of a better way to help his son escape unnoticed, Rick pressed his lips to Judith’s head in a kiss of apology as he gave her leg a pinch. She woke with a start, letting out a wail of surprise and displeasure more than pain. The noise provided the cover Carl needed to run from the bedroom, Rick closing the door behind him as he rocked Judith and tried to soothe her tears, feeling like the world’s worst father for having been the cause of it.

He remained inside the kitchen as Carl vaulted over the back of the couch, landing on his back on the cushions and picking up his Gameboy as if he had been playing this whole time. Rick could hear Negan directly enter his bedroom from the stairwell a second later. He didn’t let out a breath of relief until he heard the shower running, letting himself sink down into one of the chairs at the table to continue cooing to his daughter, apologizing and assuring her that she was gonna be alright.

It took Negan some time to immerge from his bedroom, but he looked in a fair enough mood when he did, taking in Judith sleeping once more in Rick’s arms at the table and Carl laying out on the couch. “Honey, I’m home,” he smirked.

Rick said nothing, cuddling his daughter a little closer as the man made his way over and planted a kiss on Rick’s forehead. He just had a way of doing that that it felt like a branding every time. Something about the slow and pointed way he did it. The way he would look down his nose at Rick right after didn’t help that none. “What did you do while I was gone? I mean since you couldn’t be bothered to do the one thing I asked of you.”

Rick’s stomach clenched, sensing the loaded statement but not knowing what the man was referring to. What had he been asked to-

His own hand crept up to his beard. ‘ _Maybe see about shaving this._ ’

Negan’s eyes sharpened on Rick. Bingo. “What were you doing, Rick?”

“Judith woke up from her nap fussy. I had a hard time getting her back to sleep.” Negan must have heard her wailing when he first got back. Rick hoped it was believable. It had to be. “I couldn’t just leave her to cry so that I could shave.”

Negan considered the explanation, glancing over to Carl, seeing the boy watching them from over the back of the couch.

He donned a winning smile, backing off from Rick a bit. “Hey there, Killer. No ‘welcome home’ for me?”

Carl set his Gameboy aside, getting up and making his way over, only briefly glancing to Rick for confirmation that he was okay to do so. His smile was subdued but easy enough as he stood before the large man. “Did you find any extra batteries?”

Negan chuckled, shaking his head. “Not this time. You might have to go easy on the games. We got batteries but they can’t be used up on stuff like Donkey Kong. Maybe next time I’ll find some extras. I did manage to find a couple video game magazines though. You can have them in a few days once they’ve decontaminated.”

“Ok, thanks,” Carl smiled, “Welcome home.”

Seeming satisfied enough, Negan turned back to Rick, his gaze losing some of the softness. “Don’t you have somewhere to be now that she’s sleeping? Something to do? I’ll hold her for ya,” he offered, reaching out for Judith.

Rick’s neck heated with his anger that Negan would insist he shave his beard. Carl was watching them, and Rick just couldn’t heel at the command with his son watching him like he was. He squared his shoulders, refusing to hand his daughter over. “I plan to keep it actually.”

Something dark passed through Negan’s hazel eyes, but that smile was back and brighter than ever a moment later. Rick knew this wasn’t going to be the end of it. Negan would find some way to make him pay for it later.

The man chuckled and turned back to Rick’s son. “Carl, you ever see The Outsiders? Let’s watch, I could use a break from all that John Wayne bullshit.”

X

After supper, when the kids were out of earshot, Negan had made it clear in not so many words that Rick could either give up the gun or share his bed again, but either way the firearm would be kept away from the kids for the night, unloaded or not. Not willing to give back the gun, certain it would not be in the same drawer the next time he wanted it, Rick had stiffly acquiesced. He had told Carl that he would just be staying up later so his son didn’t realize that he wasn’t actually coming to bed.

Negan and Carl had watched movies for a while, and when Rick had had to eventually get up to go to the bathroom Carl had collected Judith from him so he could, carrying her around the rest of the night since Rick couldn’t.

Negan had carried Judith to the back room for him.

Rick didn’t even realize that he was being punished at first. It had felt like being helped out, of all things. For the first couple nights Rick had been too focused on- and thankful for the fact- that the man never tried to lay a finger on him. He didn’t so much as brush against Rick accidently in his sleep. Rick had assumed the man would get back at him for the meager defiance in some way while sharing his bed. True to his word, however, Negan didn’t try to force anything.

Rick liked to think he didn’t notice at first what his punishment was because the crutches meant he couldn’t even attempt to carry Judith around. After a few days it started creeping in on his consciousness that even though she was right in front of him, always in the arms of her brother or Negan, he hadn’t actually gotten to hold her himself. Once he noticed, it became obvious fairly quickly why that was.

Negan was sneaky about it, letting Carl hold her just fine and always willing to hold her himself from the very beginning, but now if Carl tried to hand her off to Rick for a moment or even set her down on the couch where Rick might get to her Negan would quickly snatch her up, offering to hold or carry her like he was just being helpful.

Sharing Negan’s bed was just another way to keep Rick from holding his daughter throughout the night.

He tested this suspicion on the third day, offering to take Judith from Carl while they were at the dinner table. Negan had swooped in to scoop her up before Rick could reach for her. “Come to Papa, Baby Girl. This way your Daddy can enjoy his lunch.”

For all his watching, Carl didn’t seem to have picked up on anything amiss with it just yet. Rick had stared at the man’s back. “You’re cooking, why don’t you let me hold her? It’s easier for me to hold her and eat than for you to hold her and cook.”

Negan scoffed at that. “Yeah because it’s so easy to eat a burrito one handed compared to waiting for more rice to cook. Don’t you worry about it. I got her.”

Rick grit his teeth, but couldn’t very well rip his daughter from the man’s grasp if he wasn’t willing to give her up. He couldn’t risk hurting her, and he wouldn’t worry Carl on this if he didn’t absolutely have to.

He waited until after supper then, hobbling on his crutches over to the couch where Negan had moved to watch TV with Judith on his lap.

Rick held out his arms for her, his heart clenching when she noticed and reached back for him too with little arms, but Negan shifted her to his far hip like he hadn’t even noticed. He didn’t so much as glance up to Rick when he spoke, but he was clearly speaking to him. “I got her if you maybe wanted to go shave and freshen up. We’re just having a little bonding, don’t want her feeling neglected, ya know. One would think Baby Girl didn’t get held enough for how much she hates to be put down.”

The words seemed in jest, but they both knew the message read loud and clear. It was very much intentional then that Rick wasn’t getting to hold his daughter, and now he knew what Negan’s price would be. Shave.

Rick’s lips pressed. His daughter was worth his beard in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t the real price here. This was Negan flexing; yanking that choke chain in a little closer.

Negan smiled down at Judith, who had settled back in against him, though her eyes stayed big on Rick. “What do you think princess? Are kisses better from your Daddy once they’re all smooth? None of that stubble scratching up your fine baby skin?”

Rick’s fists balled at his sides, enraged at how Negan was using his children to try to manipulate him into doing as he was told. He hated too that it was working as well as it was already. Knowing that he wasn’t being allowed to hold her made Rick _ache_ to do so, wanting her out of Negan’s reach.

Carl had been helping out with the dishes after supper, watching now from the kitchen.

Rick was left more or less standing there in frustrated indecision.

Negan glanced up at him then, looking ready to kick himself as though he had forgotten something. “Oh damn, Darlin’, I’m sorry. You probably want a little bit of help- given your injury.” With an easy smile he clicked off the TV and stood up, keeping Judith on the far side of Rick as he placed a hand on the small of Rick’s back to gently but firmly push him along on his crutches towards the main bedroom. “Carl, can you hold Judith while I help your dad out?”

Carl was still looking skeptical, picking up that something was off, but he nodded his head and dried off his hands to take her. “S-sure.”

Negan continued to guide Rick past his children. “Don’t you worry none, Rude-Jude. I’m sure your daddy can’t wait to hold you once he’s all smoothed out.”

With the door closed behind them Rick immediately moved out of Negan’s reach, a white-knuckle grip on his crutches. Negan ignored him for the moment, turning on the shower and checking the temperature, wetting and heating a towel under it. “Sit down, Rick,” he invited, though there was a command in his tone as he turned off the spray.

Rick kept his chin firm and his glare level as he shifted the crutches and lowered himself with the air of someone deigning to do so rather than being ordered.

Negan chuckled in tight amusement for it. “You really are somethin’ else. Sitting there like a king on a throne. And here I am playing the steward. Allow me to wait on your royal tuchus.” He wrung out the hot towel and tossed it into Rick’s face, fairly gently though the humor was leaving his dark eyes. “You can probably manage to hold it against your own face. Nice and tight, or razor burn is a bitch.”

He started pulling out a shaving bag from his closet, fishing a straight razor out of its package to get ready for Rick.

Rick held the towel to his face, no interest in suffering razor burn to spite the man, but he wasn’t going to squirm for him.

Negan waited several minutes as he sharpened the razor, keeping the silence in tact before taking away the towel and looming in close over Rick. Their eyes met for a moment as the razor came up, Rick unflinching. He managed to look up to the corner of the wall in an almost bored manner as Negan pressed the razor to his neck and dragged it up in the first line. He wasn’t going to kill him, he was proving a point, and trying to intimidate. Rick refused to let his emotions be played with any further, thinking only of holding his daughter afterwards to keep himself calm and indifferent as though this had actually been his idea and not Negan’s.

It was some time before the man broke the stretched silence, “Are you happy with this, Rick? This back and forth pissin’ on each other’s lawns? I told you before, it can be easier. You’re the one making it difficult.”

“Because I don’t follow your orders?” Rick said with a snit.

The razor took a fast scratch up the bottom of his chin, somehow not cutting him. “I would think that this being my shelter, that would mean in some level or another that my rules are to be respected, yeah. You’re not really in a position right now to be considered a partner, unable to contribute in any way. All I seek is the respect I’ve earned. Now granted, there’s gonna be rough patches- like this one right here on your chin,” he smirked, shaving over it to prove his point. “But we can work together to smooth them out. I know you’re used to being king of your own castle, Rick. Master of the house and all that, but that’s just not how it is anymore.”

“You might own the shelter, Negan,” Rick growled, “But you don’t own me. You don’t own my kids.”

Negan chucked at that. “Wake up and smell the fuckin’ roses, Rick. We’ve been over that, and by the way- I warned you about tellin’ me lies like that.”

Rick let out a hissed shout when the blade just barely nicked his bottom lip, enough to bring about a bead of blood. His eyes were pure fire when he glared back up at the man standing over him, pressing a square of toilet paper to the cut before moving on with the shave, his expression flat the whole time.

“Careful Darlin’,” he warned remorselessly.

He whistled a bit as he finished up the shave, the cheery toon slow enough to sound foreboding coming out of his lips.

“I get it though, you’re acting out because it’s all too much too soon and you can’t cope fast enough. We can fix that- fairly easily actually. If what you need are a few less rules to follow, a little more freedom to swing your weight around as if you’re responsible for any part of our asses sittin’ so pretty here, maybe the solution- since you can’t contribute more- is for me to pull back on my own efforts. It’s a lot of risky fuckin’ work running around to make sure everyone stays comfortable. Maybe I need to be contributing less. Start rationing food a lot more rather than letting your kids scarf it down as they like. I heard an adult human can survive for weeks without food. Now that’s extreme, but if we cut the portions down to just a fourth, or a fifth, we could probably make everything last for- shit, ten years before I have to even go on another run.”

“Don’t.” Rick hissed, more pain slipping into his voice than he had hoped would. “Don’t bring them into this.”

Negan grinned down at him, like he was being funny somehow. “They don’t have to come into it at all, Rick. But it gets tiresome real fast having to provide for those that don’t respect what I’ve done. You’re their father, so you set the example. If you’re being disrespectful it’s a slippery slope for kids. All I need is for you to set an example for them. Whichever way you want that to be is what drives the outcome, Rick, but that’s on you, not me. It’s a fair fuckin’ trade. Respect in exchange for comfort the likes of which anybody in this lost world would give an arm and a leg for. It really is a fair fuckin’ deal. That is, unless you really are happy with this here like it is. Does the fighting back and forth get your rocks off?”

Rick didn’t let himself buy the bullshit for one moment; largely because of his time on the force. He had received training and experience in recognizing and dealing with those that were mentally abusive and manipulative to those around them. Even still, he had been led down the rabbit hole, and now he was in too deep. Fighting Negan wasn’t an option right now, and he couldn’t afford the man’s wrath, not when his children could suffer for it too. Rick _had_ to get them out of here.

That resolution that he would do so was the only thing giving him the strength he needed to swallow through his pride to try to look just a little bit contrite, eyes lowered as he rubbed the towel slowly over his now shaved face. “No. I don’t like it either- the fightin’,” he grit out. “I guess I-I was being a little less… accommodating than I could have, considerin’,” He tacked on lamely.

Giving in all the way right away would be too obvious to Negan, but Rick needed him to back off a bit, he needed to be able to plan and think and breathe. Given the trauma and mental hoops he had been jumping through of late it was easy enough to pull a pretty good hang-dog expression, letting a little bit of the exhaustion he felt show on his face and in his eyes. “I don’t want us fightin’ all the time. It’s like you said- it’s gonna be just us for a good while yet.” _Hopefully not too long._

Negan said nothing, his stare hard upon Rick, evaluating his every word and gesture.

“I really do appreciate that my kids are safe,” that part wasn’t a lie at least. “I guess I could be more… respectful.” Even though their ideas of respect obviously varied wildly. Rick could give respect easily with most anyone. What Negan called respect, however, was obedience and putting up with mind games. It was tolerating his bullying and abuse, or at least overlooking it.

Rick’s every instinct was to fight it, but right now he couldn’t do it directly and it grated at him deep in his bones.

Whatever Negan saw in his eyes seemed to pacify him- eventually. Enough, anyway.

Rick jumped when the man’s smirk returned and he clapped him hardily on the shoulder. “See, communication is key, just needed to talk it out. Ya see now, we smoothed it out together.” He let his hand brush over Rick’s smooth cheek for emphasis as he pulled back a bit. “We’re good now. You can get up.”

Nothing about this was good.

Rick slowly got up on his crutches, his stance bordering between contrite and stubbornly rigid. Negan seemed to buy that mannerism from him at least. Those eyes were back to appreciating as they took in Rick’s clean face and Rick fought himself to not back up when he once more stepped into his personal space. Negan ran his tongue over his bottom lip in thought. “Don’t suppose you wanna kiss and make up?” he chuckled. “I gotta say, there was a lot of beauty hidin’ underneath that scruff. Not that it didn’t have its charm too.”

Joke or not, there was an opportunity being given for advancement towards Negan’s good graces. Rick weighed it grimly. “Ok.”

It was said so tightly and quietly, he was surprised Negan notice he had said anything at all through his teeth, but the man’s brows shot up and he leaned forward with a hand cupped over his ear mockingly. “Hmm, what’s that now? Speak up, Rick.”

Rick had to will himself not to clench his fists, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. “I don’t want to fight, it was dumb. If it makes up for it… yeah.”

Negan looked at him like he was full of it. “Well lay it on me then, Darlin’.”

Clearly, he expected Rick to back out of it, standing before him like he was calling a bluff.

Rick steeled himself, leaning forward on his crutches into the man’s space. He was sort of scrunched down on them, so he had to straighten up to reach Negan’s lips. The man didn’t move a muscle, even after Rick removed the space between them in a soft brush of lips.

_Don’t bite him. Don’t bite him. Don’t-_

Rick pressed just a little closer and Negan let a bit of his guard finally drop, returning the kiss just as softly. He made Rick lead it, returning everything he was given, not pressing for more. Rick was mindful of how Negan promised to never force anything like this on him, and on the surface, it was a nice sentiment, but the reality was becoming clearer to Rick that it was another manipulation of the truth. While the larger man made a soft purr in the back of his throat like he was starting to enjoy it, he seemed to be simultaneously gauging how far Rick was willing to take it.   

Rick felt his face heat, hoping Negan would take it for a blush as he pulled back after a few moments, unwilling to take it any further than light kissing.

Negan licked his lips again like he was savoring the taste on them and grinned down at him from beneath thick dark lashes.

He didn’t say anything, surprisingly. That look said more than enough anyway. Perhaps he just knew that Rick was at the absolute edge of how far he could stand to be pushed for the night. Whatever the reason for such a blessing as Negan’s silence, Rick hardly cared as Negan escorted him back out.

His daughter was his only focus at this point, and Rick eagerly accepted her from Carl and held her close. He placed kiss after kiss against her soft sandy curls. He didn’t stop until he could no longer feel the phantom press of Negan’s lips on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following!   
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	7. Chapter 7

 

It was damn worrisome, how fine everything almost seemed to be after they had butted heads. Rick had pretty much gutted himself of his dignity telling Negan they were good and going so far as to actually giving him a kiss to settle it. 

The man had to have known Rick's stubbornness and pride were only subdued, not resolved. He had to know that. 

Since then, however, damn it if the man hadn’t been his former pleasant and charismatic self.   
He hadn’t tried to cut Rick off from holding Judith again, offering her up to him unprompted sometimes with a smile and a good-natured "Go to your daddy, Baby Girl." He still watched movies and joked around with Carl, though Rick noted that since he had spoken to his son the 12-year-old didn’t seek out interactions from the man. He played along naturally enough when Negan instigated them, however, and the man didn’t seem suspicious that anything was different there since Carl had been quiet originally. 

Negan cooked, he picked up after himself for the most part, and he cracked jokes and smiles at every chance. 

Once while Rick was reading to Judith Negan laid out on the free sofa and listened to Rick’s voice until he drifted off into a nap, perfectly content and domestic. 

He was patient, kicking up no fuss whatsoever when Rick declined his offer to have drinks together at night, or trying to press any further affection from him since their fight. Negan didn’t try to touch him, though there were a few mornings Rick woke to find them shoulder to shoulder or one time back to back.

He didn’t ask for the gun back, but he was still insisting that the gun stay in his room at night and if Rick wanted to stay with it, they could share the bed. That was the only bitter pill Rick had had to swallow for about a week, but swallow it he did, unwilling to give up what had been so precariously handed over in the first place. 

If he were less stubborn, less on guard, maybe he could have almost lied to himself about how Negan had seriously harangued him at the first sign of disobedience to get his way. Maybe he could have softened the memory in his mind of how serious their confrontation had been. How Negan had gone so far as to hold his children’s wellbeing in front of him like a carrot on a stick to steer Rick in the direction he wanted.

He couldn’t forget though; the lack of hair on his face and the little scab on his bottom lip where Negan had cut him were daily reminders lest he try.

Rick was waiting for the man to go out again, waiting for the man to give him another chance to locate his bullets or some information to continue planning out his exodus. It was about eight days later that he finally felt anxious enough about it to say something about the fact that Negan hadn’t made any mention in all that time of going back out.

"We're running low on the baby food... when do you think you'll go on another run?" He asked, trying for fairly nonchalant since he was feeding Judith some crushed beets for breakfast. He was wearing half of it on his shirt, trying to convince his daughter of the vegetable and having a hard time.

"Don’t let her waste so much food if running out is an issue," Negan scolded lightly, hardly looking up from an old car magazine he was reading while he ate his cereal. "I can’t be running out for every little thing, Darlin’. It’s dangerous. Not just because of those things roaming around out there, but people too. If there’s more out there it’s a risk that I could be tracked or followed. We got plenty of canned goods still. You can blend some up for her to make do.”

Rick tried not to let his irritation show as he read between the lines. “When do you think you’ll make another run then?”

At Negan’s silence he turned away from his daughter to speak directly to the man, trying to keep his frustration out of his tone. “If this is because of the fight- you said something about cutting back on rations- I thought that we were good though. You said-

Negan did look up from his magazine then, the anger Rick expected nonexistent in the man’s demeanor as he held up a hand to appease Rick. “Whoa! Whoa there, don’t go getting your panties in a twist now. I said we are good and we are, but that doesn’t mean I got to put myself and this place at risk when there’s other things here to eat. Simmer down, Rick.”

The only edge in the man’s tone was placed on Rick’s name, as it usually was whenever Negan spoke it anymore. It was a subtle warning to drop the matter.

Negan changed the subject before Rick could continue to press. “Where the hell is Carl anyway? That boy slipped off halfway through breakfast."

 He could only be in the back room based off the direction he had gone. It was weird that he had been back there for so long, however. Rick called out for his son, but after a few moments got no response. Instantly the worry started to set in that something was wrong. Rick set the baby food aside and snapped the bib off Judith that had been in the diaper bag Negan had brought back before setting his daughter on the ground.

“Can you watch her while I go check on him?”

Negan was already out of his own chair and scooping Judith up from the floor, bouncing her around and making her giggle. “Shame on Daddy, putting the princess on the floor.”

Rick ignored him, getting his crutches and heading through the living room and down the hall to the back room. “Carl?”

The sight that greeted him chilled him, his son curled up in agony on his mattress, clutching his stomach and moaning pitifully. There was a sour smell in the room, and Rick noticed the vomit on the floor only when he nearly stepped in it. “Carl! Negan!”

He called for the other man without a thought other than to get help for whatever had his son suffering so, letting himself drop down a little too quickly for his leg’s liking next to him. Carl’s forehead was hot with a low-grade fever and sweaty to the touch, his eyes cracking opening at Rick’s touch. “Dad,” he sighed in some small measure of relief. “Stomach hurts so bad.”

Negan’s shadow fell across them from the brighter light of the hall, Judith still on his hip as he stepped around the vomit on the floor. “What’s wrong?”

Rick almost gave the man points for sounding genuinely concerned. “He’s sick. Stomach flu maybe? Carl?”

“I’m sorry,” the preteen only whimpered miserably.

Negan crouched down next to Rick, looking over the boy critically with concern. “Sorry for what?”

“Last night I snuck some of the frozen cookie dough, I think the raw eggs in it gave me food poisoning.”

Negan tsked, but took some sympathy, patting Carl’s side lightly before standing up. “Well, I guess you already know not to do that again then at this point. I’ll grab you some bottled water and a bucket. Has it come out the other end yet?”

Carl could only weakly shake his head no.

“It will,” Negan stated matter-of-factly. “Maybe I’ll get two buckets just in case. All we can do is make sure you stay hydrated. Rick, I’m gonna get you some towels to clean up the vomit. At least there’s no carpet in here to worry about.”

Rick nodded in agreement. “Thank you,” he responded automatically as he pushed the hair out of Carl’s face.

Something flashed through Negan’s eyes at the spoken gratitude, something that spoke of ownership and satisfaction. He gave Rick a small smile before making his way from the room.

They got the mess cleaned up and got Carl sipping at the water a little bit, Rick pulling Judith back when she tried to take it from him. “Gatorade would be better for him,” Negan muttered offhandedly, deep in thought. “It replenishes the electrolytes and hydrates better. Used it all the time in gym class and after school sports. The gas station down the road…” he trailed off in thought, Rick holding his breath.

Negan crooked two fingers in gesture for Rick to get up and follow him out of the room, not waiting for certainty that he would. Rick left Judith next to Carl, hoping she wouldn’t torment her brother too much for a few moments as he followed after the man.

Negan’s face was pinched in displeasure in the hall. Once Rick was right next to him, he stepped in closer so he could drop his voice to whisper across Rick’s cheek. “You two in cahoots, Rick?”

“What?” Rick hissed back, incredulous.

“You ask when I plan to go out and your kid gets sick the same morning? If I didn’t know better, I might be inclined to think-

“Whatever you are about to accuse me of- _don’t_ ,” Rick warned him in a vicious hiss. “I would never let one of my children get sick to get my way, Negan. _I’m_ not monster enough to fuckin’ do that.” He made sure the point stood out to the man.

Negan held his gaze unflappably, but the skepticism slowly passed from his eyes. He rested his hands on his hips in a way that nearly spoke ‘damn it’ out loud before leaning back in. “Okay, you listen to me, drop the fuckin’ tone right now, _Prick_. How we talked about respect before, I’m findin’ it mighty disrespectful for you to use that tone with me and I will shut that shit down if you don’t.” He stared down his nose at Rick with a sharp edge in his eye before Rick mustered up the restraint to turn his own eyes away. After a moment of oppressive silence between them Negan continued, tone softer once more. “Also, I’ll go out and get the Gatorade and maybe some soft foods if I can find any for the kid since he’s gonna be wanting little else for the rest of the week. If you want me to, that is.”

Of course he wanted him to. Rick couldn’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t want anything that might help ease his son’s recovery. He nodded his head. “Yes, of course I do.”

Negan didn’t move. Staring down at Rick like he was waiting for more. Rick couldn’t help but tense a bit under that look. “You want me to do this?” Negan confirmed again.

“Y-yes,” Rick insisted, hesitantly now.

“Wanna give me a little taste of how thankful it will make you, Darlin’?”

Rick’s breath left him through his teeth, realizing what Negan was waiting for. He wanted Rick to show his thanks.

There was a stillness between them for a moment, Rick uncertain how much Negan was expecting vs what he could stand to give. A taste… did that mean whatever he gave up now Negan would expect more later when he got back? Probably. Rick might not have to give anything, but then Negan might not leave till he got his way.

“What’s it gonna be?” Negan pressed.

Rick forced himself forward, pressing his lips to the taller man’s in what started as a chaste kiss, hardly that even. Negan didn’t respond at all at first, positively or negatively. Rick moved his lips a bit against Negan’s the man still not responding at all, staring back at Rick like he was bored. He wasn’t going to go anywhere at this rate. Rick slid a hesitant tongue over the part of the man’s lips, which gave way easily for him to deepen it. Rick put just a little bit of skill into the kiss, sucking at lips and sliding his tongue across Negan’s own till the man finally started responding.

He nearly broke from the kiss when he felt the light touch of Negan’s hands resting on his hips, and that wicked tongue slid back over his own, especially when his own treasonous body started to respond automatically to the touch and intimacy- coerced though it was.

He felt the man’s lips curl in a pleased smile against his own when his hips bumped Rick’s own and the man noticed the response that was forming there.

After a moment or two, Rick pulled back, hoping it was enough for now, wondering how much more he would surely have to give later.

Negan hummed pleasantly and let Rick pull back from him, that smirk on his face as infuriating as the half-bulge in his own jeans. “See you when I get back,” was all the man purred, turning and making his way down the hall to get going.

Maybe he won’t come back, Rick almost let himself hope, chastising himself a moment later. Negan was an asshole of gigantic proportions, but Rick had never hoped for anyone’s death before and even being on the receiving end of the man’s manipulations still wasn’t enough to change that now. He was a cop at heart even if there was no more official police force, and he knew justice was reached through correction, remorse, and rehabilitation- not eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth. If he stopped feeling that way than it only meant that he had lost something important within himself.

He couldn’t control some of the things Negan took from him, like his gun or bullets, but he wouldn’t let the man so deep into himself that he could take something that important away from him. That much he _could_ control.

Rick returned to the back room to check on his son and daughter, shocked to see Carl standing up, looking miraculously better, Judith in his arm. “C-Carl?”

“He wasn’t going to leave, Dad, it was pretty damn obvious. You asked me to look for any kind of address of where this place is, and I’ve been waiting for days to tell ya, I found it.”

Rick could only stare at his young son in confusion. “You’re… not sick?”

Carl rolled his eyes. “From frozen cookie dough? I used to eat the entire pack whenever mom would buy it. It hasn’t hurt me yet, Dad.”

“But your fever… the vomit-

“I made myself throw up breakfast and ran in place until I was sweatin’ buckets. Wanted to make it look pretty bad.”

Rick’s mind flicked back to various mornings in the past that Carl had stayed home from school with an upset stomach, Lori fussin’ over him and kissing his hot forehead. He had never been that convincing as a child himself, impressed despite himself at his son’s efforts. “You shouldn’t lie like that, Carl, it’s dishonest,” Rick mumbled off in a mostly knee-jerk reaction, not actually unhappy with the chance his son had given them for privacy, brief though it would certainly be.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time you need me to search someone’s room for you,” his son quipped, causing Rick’s cheeks to darken with a blush of deep shame. Carl was largely unbothered compared to his father. “I told you though, I found those old bills I saw before. They got an address, but they don’t make sense, Dad.” He sat back down on his mattress, setting Judith in his lap and handing her the water bottle to play with before he reached into his pillow case and pulled out a few crumpled old envelopes.

He passed them up to Rick, who looked over them closely. They were addressed to a home in Sandy Springs, so it was likely that they were at least somewhere north of Atlanta. Knowing that information gave Rick a better idea of what was around them to maybe run to at least. He saw what his son was referring to, however, the name on all of them being ‘Dwight’ rather than ‘Negan’. Rick poked through a few of the envelopes, able to make out very old work orders for extensive digging and cement pouring operations that took place. In with one of the bills was a faded receipt for 120 large bags of dried rice and egg noodles, paid on a tab belonging to someone named ‘Sherry’.

Why would Negan have somebody else’s old bills sitting around down here? Rick’s confusion only deepened. “What the-

“Dad,” Carl interrupted him, “We need to get going if you want me to look for your stuff again.”

Rick knew his son was absolutely right, wondering to himself how he had grown so much without his noticing, how he could even begin to understand so much of the urgency of the situation without being told. Rick could only watch with something of impressed awe of his son as he hobbled along down the hall behind him. Carl carried Judith to the room for Rick, handing her off to him to hold outside of Negan’s room. “Just fifteen minutes this time, Carl,” Rick insisted, unwilling to risk Negan coming back and surprising them like last time. He didn’t want to have to pinch Judith ever again like that.

They stuck to the fifteen minutes, and while Carl didn’t turn up the bullets, he had found a stack of boxes in the back of Negan’s closet that they might need to look into next time the man went out. Carl had only gotten into a shoebox that had been sitting on top of them, finding more old bills belonging to these unknown ‘Dwight’ and ‘Sherry’ people, as well as some old tax records of theirs. Rick wondered if maybe they were Negan’s parents, perhaps the ones to build this shelter and pass it down to him. He never had spoken of them in all the time they had been living in this bunker, however, and his stomach knotted uncomfortably like it sometimes used to while working cases.

By the time Negan returned and decontaminated himself and a pack of Gatorade- saying he had more out in the truck he would have to bring down for storage later- Carl had run himself into a sweat again and resumed moaning around on the floor, telling Negan weakly that Rick had helped him to the bathroom for more to come out the other end while he had been gone.

Negan had replaced the water with a bottle of lemon-lime and encouraged the kid to hang in there, scooting the bucket a little closer just in case. “I’ll make some rice for you later, keep it easy on the stomach for a while,” Negan assured the boy, convinced enough of his sickness as he got up to leave the little room.

“Thank you,” Carl moaned pitifully.

“Anything you need, Killer,” Negan smirked, those hazel eyes sliding over to Rick. “You can thank me later, Darlin’.”

Rick tried not to show the shiver that went down his spine at all, not wanting Carl to see it even more than Negan now that it had been made abundantly clear to him that Carl saw a lot more than Rick ever gave him credit for before.

X

It was at the end of the day that Negan sought out the rest of Rick’s gratitude, and only when Rick was nearly convinced he might be off the hook.

The kids had long since gone to sleep, and Rick had joined Negan in his bed to be allowed to keep possession of his gun. Negan had turned the light off to settle in and closed his eyes like he would sleep, so Rick had done the same on his own side. It was when he had nearly nodded off that Negan turned his head towards him. “You forgettin’ somethin’, Darlin’?”

Rick’s stomach had knotted again, but he slowly- oh so slowly- turned on his side. Negan’s eyes didn’t even open, but it was clear he was waiting and Rick felt like his heart might stop entirely if those hazel eyes snapped open on him now as he leaned in to kiss the man again. Just like before he had to put some effort into it before Negan responded in return at all, making it clear that he wasn’t forcing the kiss from Rick in any outright way. His arm snaked under Rick’s head and around his shoulder to gently pull him even closer into the crook of Negan’s arm, his other slipping around Rick’s waist to hold him close.

The kiss didn’t get any more intense than it had earlier, a little less in fact, Negan breaking it off before either of them got caught up in the act. Rick was surprised by this until he went to pull back and return to his side of the bed, Negan’s arms suddenly tightening like vices, holding him trapped.

Negan gave it no acknowledgement, eyes remaining closed and relaxing other than the tension in his arms promising to flex once more if Rick tried to pull away again. This was to be Rick’s showing of thanks towards him it seemed, and he wasn’t certain he had gotten off easier at all for it.

Rick had used to let Lori lie on his arm just like this, and the gross parody between that and this made him want to scream. Negan simply continued to hold him, unbothered and anticipating Rick’s struggle at the same time.

Rick didn’t have a choice, and they both knew it. He stayed rigid for a long time, maybe hours. Negan never gave any indication that he was still awake, but each time Rick attempted to roll away those arms tightened up like a cage around him. Eventually, with great difficulty, sleep found him still within the insufferable man’s arms.

X

It was in the wee hours of the night that Rick woke from another fitful nightmare in Negan's imprisoning arms, remembering both in his dream and in real life how the man that had come banging on their door had cried out for someone named Dwight to save him before he was torn apart by the monsters outside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave Kudos and a review and if you are interested in more of my writing you can follow me at RNFloyd_official on instagram or irishgrlnextdoor(r n floyd) on tumblr


	8. Chapter 8

"Nobody gon show you the way now.

Nobody gon hold your hand no."

Devil is Fine; by Zeal & Ardor

 

* * *

 

Rick woke to find himself still in the man’s arms, Negan snoring lightly, the vibrations of his chest thrumming against Rick’s cheek. His body was warm enough it bordered on hot and the smell of him was naturally rich and masculine. Rick realized the full danger of the game Negan was making him play when he hesitated for just a moment to pull away, more touch-starved than he had allowed himself to consider. He hadn’t woken up cuddled in someone else’s warmth since-

He rolled out of bed, getting dressed and grabbing his crutches to head out to check on the kids and start breakfast. He was thankful when Negan slept through it.

X

Carl stayed in the backroom for a few days, continuing to fake-recover from his illness. It horrified Rick when twice more the child made himself throw up into one of the buckets. Once he had even gone barreling through the bunker in a mad rush to the bathroom to pretend he had diarrhea. He was too good an actor.

Negan sometimes checked in on him too, making special trips to the back bedroom to take in more Gatorade or small helpings of crackers or rice for him. Once he even carried Carl in his arms out to the couch so he could watch a movie or two between resting up. Rick sometimes had a hard time telling if it wasn’t an act, which only made it all the more confusing to have those reminders that the man was also good to them in many ways, protecting while he possessed, caring along with his ownership, giving despite his entitlement.

For every good he was capable of, he seemed equally capable of the bad, however, and Rick’s resolve was strong that staying wasn’t a long-term option for them.

During the days he took care of Rick and his children and -so long as his rule was not fought- it was given seemingly easily and freely. During the nights it was easier for Rick to see the stipulations set in place when Negan would pull him into his arms, as he had done every night since that first time he had done so. Once there Negan held him trapped until he had no choice but to resign to his imprisonment. A prison in the guise of something good as Negan cuddled him close.

Almost a week of that and Carl was no longer faking illness. He was enjoying being “fully recovered”. Rick was able to hold weight on his injured leg a little better, but his own recovery was something he kept hidden from Negan, testing it out in the shower or sometimes in the hall between the living room and the kid’s room where the man wouldn’t see him doing so. Walking was still stiff and painful after a few steps, but it was marked improvement. It was hope when Rick needed it most.

Judith was making improvements of her own, pulling herself up on anything taller than she was to try to stand.

One evening when they all were gathered in the living room after supper Carl was playing with her, holding her hands and helping support some of her weight so she could stand on shaky little legs on the floor in front of his seat. She was doing good, getting a little steadier each time she tried. Negan had talked Rick into a simple game of War, but the cards were practically forgotten between them as they watched her attempts.

Carl moved her hands to his knees slowly, letting her grip his jeans tightly in her little fists to hold for balance as she fought to hold herself up. Rick felt his heart flutter in his chest when she managed it for the longest stint yet to date, a real smile lighting up his face for the first time in days.

She wobbled a bit, recovering for a moment before she lost it again and her grip slipped from Carl’s pants, plopping her down on her rear. The fall couldn’t have hurt her, but it did startle her, and as Carl picked her up she pushed away from him as if he had somehow been the one that wronged her. She reached out towards Negan instead. “Papa! Papa, papa, papa!”

Rick’s heart went from fluttering to shattered in seconds. She had never called _him_ that before. He was always ‘Dada’ to her. She wasn’t calling him Papa _now_ either. She was clearly crying out for Negan to make it all better.

The man smiled broadly and cooed sweetly to her as he got up from his seat, taking her from Carl’s suddenly slack arms to console. “Oh, poor Baby Girl. That nasty floor pulled you right down and bit you didn’t it? It just couldn’t take the fact that you were gettin’ the better of it, getting up off your hands and knees. I’ll bet gravity was a co-conspirator too, yes indeed. Bastards, the both of them! You just keep defying them, Sugar. You’ll win one of these days. Then you can give both me and your daddy heart attacks when you start running up and down this place.”

“Papa!” she continued to sniffle against his neck, calming as he rocked and cooed to her and placed kisses against her light curls.

Rick felt like he had been kicked in the stomach, short of breath and nauseous. Carl looked ready to take Judith back himself, but didn’t move a muscle. His eyes shifted to his dad, wishing in vain for any sort of direction for the horrible situation at hand. Rick could only sit there and watch as his daughter forgot about her mother, and called someone like Negan her ‘Papa’. As Judith continued to tear up against the man’s neck, Rick almost wanted to cry too.

X

Negan had gone out again on a quick run, and Carl had gone back into the man’s room to go through the boxes in the closet. As he watched from the doorway, Rick had a foreboding feeling before his son could even start for what might be inside of them.

In the first one were some men’s clothes, too small for Negan to ever have worn. Shoes that could never have fit him. In the second box were women’s clothes. The third contained personal items, random things that obviously had no monitory or functional value but were personal to someone at some point, including an old VHS tape simply marked ‘Dwight and Sherry’s Wedding’ in faded marker. Towards the bottom of it were a couple framed photos of a skinny blonde man and pretty brunette woman smiling for the camera. There was another of them standing proudly on either side of a ‘Sold’ sign in front of a little blue house in the middle of nowhere. The view in the background behind the house looked only too similar to the horizon out the window at the top of the stairs. The numbers on the house matched those of the addresses on the bills.

The more Carl found of this mystery pair, the less Rick could pretend being surprised by it. He had already had worries of finding such things before Carl even started in this time. He had strong suspicions of who they were, and why their stuff was here. Why someone would come here so deliberately and desperately and cry out for one of these phantom names to help him. Suspicions that warned him not to ask Negan about it.

There was an anniversary card amongst the couple’s stored belongings that Carl thumbed through. After looking it over he turned to Rick so quickly that it was obvious he had found something important there. He held it up for Rick to glimpse from the door. The writing in the card was in scrolling letters that had to have been written by a woman. “Couldn’t be happier for you both! Happy Anniversary to the world’s _second_ -cutest couple!” he read outloud, “Love, Lucille and Negan.”

Rick needed the crutches to hold him up more than ever. These phantoms were people Negan had known then. People that Lucille was close enough with that she would send an anniversary card and joke around with them like that.

“Dad- look,” Carl prompted, finding and holding up another picture from the box for Rick to peer at. There was another picture that had been stored away too, and this one he wasn’t surprised about at all. This one was of Dwight hold a laughing Sherry in his arms and taking a backwards step over the threshold of the door that was at the top of the bunker’s stairs. _The stairs of the happy couple’s newly finished bunker_.

“What does this all mean, Dad?” Carl asked, looking to Rick for clarification, or maybe just some comforting lies.

Rick didn’t know which of those things he would have preferred to hear right now himself. This wasn’t Negan’s place, he was certain of that now. He had known the people who had owned it, apparently. Lucille had been close enough with them at least, but they obviously weren’t here now reaping the benefits of their fore-planning, and Negan was.

“I- I can’t be certain,” he replied, his mouth dry and stomach twisting with the darkest of suspicions.

“Something else on the bottom here,” Carl spoke up as he dug to the bottom of the box, “A doctor’s note or something.”

Rick held out his hand for whatever his son was looking at. Carl handed it over to him.

They were test results. A standard examination dated just days before Rick had had to flee with his family. It wasn’t for Dwight or Sherry. This was one of Negan’s personal possessions. He knew because it was an examination readout for Lucille. Negan had no doubt stashed it along with everything else he wanted to go unseen.

Rick pushed past his guilt of snooping through an innocent woman’s personal medical records and glanced over it. It appeared to be results of tests run for cancer detection and chemo therapy progress. Negan had said she had had cancer. That it had eventually taken her life. Rick would have never guessed it had been so soon. Just days before he had lost his own. She had been declining rapidly from the look of things. The paper was well creased, as though it had been gone through time and time again, crumbled up, smoothed out, and gone over again. On the back of the reports was a hand-written note, Negan’s handwriting scratched there as if making a quick note to himself to ponder upon at some later point.

‘ _Turned after death. NOT bit. Already infected?_ ’ underneath that he seemed to give himself an answer, his handwriting less rushed and circled. ‘ _Everyone’s already infected._’

Rick’s blood ran cold. What did _that_ mean? The implications… was he ‘infected’? Was everyone? His kids? _Dear God,_ he thought to himself, _Was it true then that there really were only monsters left in this world?_

Rick’s mind spun with the implications, but more questions assaulted him if this was true. He thought of Lori. Was she out there somewhere then, just another monster? Was Lucille? How was this possible? How was everyone infected? If they all were already infected and Negan knew that then why did he wear the hazmat suit when going out? What was the point of decontaminating everything he brought in? Why didn’t he tell Rick?

_To keep you scared,_ his own mind offered up. _To keep you scared so you would have to stay here and stay complacent. To make you not want to try to go out. To keep you thankful. To keep you controlled. To keep you._

“Put it all back Carl,” Rick ordered with a voice that was meant to be firm but came out hardly a whisper and cracking around the edges. “That’s enough for today.”

X

Negan returned shortly after they had gotten everything put back, Carl playing on his Gameboy and Rick changing Judith’s diaper on the couch when the man came out from his decontamination shower, hair still wet and dripping and a towel wrapped around his hips. His expression was unreadable. “Rick, you wanna come have a word with me when you’re done there?”

Rick tried not to let the horrible dread that wanted to well up show on his face, nodding his head in stilted agreement. Negan continued to give away nothing as he stepped back into his bedroom to wait.

Carl looked from his video game to Rick, and they both wore the same worried look. Had they misplaced something? Forgotten something? Did Negan know they had been in his room while away? Did he know what they had found? Maybe the boxes hadn’t been put back in the right order, or maybe it was the way the hanging clothes had draped over them that was amiss.

Rick tried to relax for Carl’s sake, but he could hardly see for his own heart pounding so hard as he slipped a new diaper onto his daughter and handed her over to his son to hold. “Play with her for a bit, okay Carl?” he asked, wanting to give the boy some distraction from the worry building between them.

Carl nodded dutifully, tense as he began bouncing her on his knee and softly singing ‘You are My Sunshine’ to her.

Rick tried to let the song calm him as he made his way over to the bedroom where Negan waited, pushing open the door with his crutch.

Negan stood waiting, towel still around his hips, on the far side of the bed. He gestured for Rick to step further into the room. “Close the door, Rick.”

_Rick_ , not _Darlin’_.

That wasn’t usually a good sign, but it wasn’t enough to read too deeply yet. Rick did as told, closing the door and inching further into the room. Negan came around the bed to meet him, invading Rick’s personal space as he always did and standing close enough that Rick could see the flush on his bare skin from the heat of the shower and make out the individual little water drops scattered across the man’s broad shoulders.

“Forgive my impatience, calling you in here rather than waiting until later to talk to you,” Negan implored in a flat tone.

“What is this about?” Rick made himself ask, hardly able to meet those hazel eyes. Almost afraid that if he met them he would see the answer of what happened to Dwight and Sherry there. Negan was capable of good and bad, he reminded himself. He had saved Rick and his kids. Three lives saved. Two unaccounted for.

“I think you already know.”

Rick swallowed against the tight feeling forming in his throat. His vision nearly swam from how anxious he was at that moment. “Do I?”

Negan smirked then, his eyes dark from under lowered lids as he peered down at Rick. “Oh, don’t be coy now. I called you in here because- as I mentioned- I’m already feeling rather impatient, and I just don’t know if I could stand pussy-footin’ right now. I’m gonna have to insist you be direct with me tonight Rick, because as far as runs go, the one I went on today was a fuckin’ shit show and I’m not left in the greatest mood by that. I suggest we try not to make it any worse.”

Rick held his tongue; uncertain what Negan was getting at. Was he just mad because of a bad run? Rick was hardly comprehending if that was what the man was saying or not, so focused on what else he _might_ be angry about if he knew. He tried not to look towards the closet to see if it had been packed back incorrectly or not.

Negan took Rick’s chin between his fingers, gently for the moment. He didn’t speak till Rick met his eyes. “I ran into a whole fuckin’ horde of those freaks today, and barely got back here at all. That, Rick, is a bad fuckin’ day if there ever was one.”

Rick could only stare back at the man, taking his borderline hostility into consideration. There was a barely contained anger simmering just under the surface. Rick could feel it in the man’s grip and see it in his eyes. “What do you want me to do about it?” Rick asked tightly, not knowing why this hostility was being directed on him if Negan wasn’t angry about anything he had actually done. He still worried that maybe Negan knew what he had done while the man had been out, and actually was angry at him. Just playing with him now by bringing up some other transgression.  

Being an outlet for anger for something that wasn’t his fault was a bad situation to be in. But if Negan actually was angry at him for what he had done… Rick couldn’t afford that. His children couldn’t afford that. What might Negan do if he knew what Rick had seen? What he knew?

Those eyes on him darkened in frustration. “One of those fuckers fuckin’ tried to get a Baskin-Robbins sample of yours truly. Asshole tried to bite down on my arm. I was lucky it didn’t break the leather of my jacket. Lucille left him lookin’ like a bowl of grandma’s fuckin’ goulash.

 “Now Rick, not to be too forward, but perhaps given that it was such a close fuckin’ call today maybe you could express a asshair’s width of extra gratitude towards me for yet again sticking my neck out- nearly fuckin’ literally for one of those sons of bitches to bite- by kissing it and making it just a little bit fuckin’ better. What do you say?”

He didn’t know that Rick had done anything then. Knowing what the issue was, however, left Rick staring incredulously at the man staring him down. The heat of Negan’s pent up frustrations could almost be felt like a heat coming off of him in that moment. It was energy needing an outlet of some kind, and he was just waiting for Rick to give it a direction.

Negan didn’t look like he particularly cared which direction Rick gave him, he would have an outlet either way. If Rick was agreeable, he could let his pent-up energy out by pushing Rick’s affection. If not, he could get it out in a fight with him.

Rick’s lip curled. He thought of the photos of Dwight and Sherry, how they were standing in their room right now while both of them pretended it was Negan’s. The thought of giving another inch to Negan made his skin crawl. Negan saw the reservation in his stance and drew up taller, squaring up like he was ready for Rick to green light him into a fight.

Rick wanted nothing more than to really beat on the other man. Knock the self-important smile right off his face whenever he sported it anymore.

As it seemed he might get his chance to get a hit in before Negan wailed on his crippled ass, other thoughts assaulted Rick before he could. He thought of how Carl was waiting in the other room on pins and needles right now. How much more scared he would be to hear a fight breaking out between them behind a closed door as he sang to his baby sister.  

He thought of all the traumatized children he had ever had to comfort after being called to a domestic dispute and made his choice. His shoulders slumped like air being let out of a balloon.  “Where did it try to bite you?”

He hardly even recognized his own voice in the question, desperate, small, pleading, and absolutely full of self-loathing.

Negan’s eyes darkened a little bit more, the edge of his smile kicking up. Slowly, he brought his forearm up, between them. Tapping the center of it. “Right here, baby.”

Rick held Negan’s eyes for a moment. It felt less like leaning forward and more like falling as the world crumbled in front of him as he did so and placed his lips obediently to the patch of still-damp skin. The longer hairs of the forearm tickled against his lips.

Negan chuckled softly, dropping his arm. “Just kiddin’ though. Fucker tried to bite me here.” He tapped the front of his left shoulder.

Rick wasn’t amused, the placement demanding he get closer to Negan. _It’s just a shoulder_ , he told himself. It was a poor lie. Less intimate than kissing lips, and yet more at the same time. Rick refrained from letting his indecision show, leaning forward again to place a chaste kiss against the warm skin of the man’s broad shoulder, able to feel the heat coming off the bare skin of Negan’s chest even through his own cotton tee.

“Lil’ lower darlin’. You’re a half inch too high,” Negan whispered into his ear.

Rick’s cheeks started to color, gritting his teeth before correcting the placement with another kiss.

“Already a little better, I have to admit. You just got that magic touch,” he chuckled. “I hate to impose, but another walker might have tried to nip me a bit… over here.” He tapped the center of his chest, right over the breastbone.

Rick met the man’s eyes again, wondering how far he planned to push this. Wondering how far he could stand for the man to push this.

Negan’s eyes shined like a demon’s upon him, that grin still affixed, waiting for this to go on or turn into a fight, ready to enjoy either one. “I think it was the last one to try.”

He kept Negan’s gaze as long as he could, not willing to cower through this. The hair of Negan’s chest was fairly thick, dark against his skin and trailing all the way down into the towel. It was still speckled with water from the shower, wetting Rick’s lips as he pressed them to the indicated skin. He could feel the heart beating just underneath. How he longed to sink his teeth into it.

He became fully aware of the moment the towel was pulled from the man’s body, leaving him very naked as Rick’s entire face and neck burned red.

Negan laughed at his own antics as he stepped back from Rick’s lips and turned to pad his way over towards the closet, giving Rick a shameless full back view as well. “Thanks a bunch. Much better now.”

Rick could only watch, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest for how fast it was beating, now in worry as Negan opened up the closet and looked around inside of it. If anything looked out of place…

Negan grew still for a moment, before slowly turning his head back to look over his shoulder at Rick. “See something you like?” he winked, pointing out that he had been staring.

Rick didn’t dare correct the man on why or where he had actually been staring, averting his eyes as if embarrassed of being caught. Negan grabbed a pair of lounge pants out of the closet, turning back to give another full eyeful of the front as he made his way back over to the bed. “Go ahead and sit down. We got something else to talk about.”

Rick didn’t really want to take a seat on the bed, uncomfortable with how much closer it brought him to eyelevel with… other things. Negan gave his shoulder a light shove to make him before tossing the pants on the mattress next to where he indicated for Rick to sit. Rick did so, planting his eyes on the ground.

Negan’s voice was serious again when he spoke. “Someone managed to pick over the gas stations inventory since my last trip. Either someone with a big truck, or a _lot_ of someones. I’ll have to figure on a longer trip, further out next time. You might just have to blend up some more baby food between now and then. Doesn’t have to happen right away… but when I go it will likely have to take longer.”

His eyes slid over to Rick, considering his reactions to all of this, as well as what he had to say next.

“We talked before about leaving you some bullets if I ever had to go on a longer trip. So that you could protect this place while I was out.”

Rick gave away nothing, already so far on edge that it was nearly impossible to be thrown by anything else as he listened and waited.

Negan picked up the towel and finished drying himself off before reaching for the sleeping pants. “Your behavior of late has been good, and I would like to think I’d have no worries about leaving you with such a big responsibility. Do _you_ think I would have anything to worry about?”

“No,” came the flat answer, Rick unwilling to give any other that might persuade the man differently.

Negan reached out and tapped the bottom of Rick’s chin up so he was meeting his eyes. “You remember I warned you not to lie to me?”

Rick held his eyes firmly; he had to. “I’m not. There will be nothing to worry about.”

Negan weighed Rick’s resolve in his answer. After a heavy moment, he let go of Rick’s chin with a nonchalant shrug. “Well, there’s plenty of time between now and then … I grabbed a map from the gas station, one of the few things the assholes left behind. I’ll have to figure out a new place to hit up, maybe head out in a month or so. We can see how things go here until then. See if I can afford to keep that bargain with you or not.” The smile he cast Rick was almost mocking then. “You just keep being your sweet self, Darlin’, and it shouldn’t be any issue.”

Rick ignored the mockery, not caring in the slightest. He was too focused on the important things Negan had told him. He would go out. He would go out far, and that meant taking a longer time. He had a map ‘decontaminating’ on the other side of the door right now. Rick would need one of those. He was willing to give Rick bullets if he could continue to ‘behave’ between now and then. Rick would need those even more. A month from now- Rick should be able to get around on his own by then if how he was doing now was any indication.

He could make it a month under Negan’s radar. He would. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Please leave kudos and let me know -if you have a minute- if you are still with this story now that we are over halfway to the finish.


	9. Chapter 9

"He come in early morning

Devil is fine."

song _Devil is Fine_ , by Zeal &Ardor 

 

* * *

 

Rick woke up in what was unfortunately starting to become the usual way, warm in Negan’s arms. He was laying comfortably against the man’s chest, his head tucked in under that salt and pepper beard. Negan’s snores and his heartbeat both vibrated through Rick, threatening to lull him back to sleep.

The alarm on the bedside clock would go off in two minutes. And since Rick wasn’t able to reach it without waking him anyway, he just watched the minutes tick down. At the first beep Negan’s arm swung out on reflex and knocked it silent, returning and curling in closer around Rick as he resettled. He pressed a soft kiss to the curls on his forehead, and Rick reminded himself he didn’t actually enjoy it at all- that he merely tolerated it- despite how good it felt on an instinctive level to be held in the warmth of somebody’s embrace.

Negan’s snores didn’t come back, but his breathing eventually evened out with more sleep. Rick remained pliable when the man turned onto his side towards him, forcing him to roll away to not get crushed underneath till they were just about spooning. One of Negan’s arms clung to Rick’s waist the whole time to keep him close. Rick told himself it wasn’t as comfortable as it was as he settled with Negan’s breath puffing over the back of his neck and nearly drifted back to sleep himself.

After a moment, those even breathes behind him deepened, growing only marginally heavier. Negan’s nuzzled at the back of Rick’s neck, still asleep as he breathed in his scent with each lungful. Rick wasn’t naïve enough to not know what was coming. He had been told by Lori that he had done this a few times in his sleep as well, more often back in high school. Negan’s hips pushed just a little closer to Rick and even in slumber his excitement became obvious as a morning erection poked at Rick’s hide through their underwear. Rick tried to scoot further away, but that arm around him didn’t give him any room as Negan’s hips continued to rock softly against him every few moments.

Rick thought about saying something to wake the man up, or giving him a shove, but his mouth was dry and his tongue as paralyzed as his body as the man rocked against him unawares. The arm around him tightened, pulling his hips back firmly against the erection that slid along his crack over the fabric of the underwear. Rick’s cheeks burned with shame when his own body started to respond to the feeling despite it being unwanted. Negan thrusted a little more firmly against the line of his body, the thickness of his cock just barely parting Rick’s cheeks despite the fabric keeping them chaste. Rick’s own only responded more, morning wood naturally taking it further along than it actually was and he finally found the willpower to reach back and shove against Negan’s hips to hold them off from doing it again.

That woke him up, the rocking and breathing both cutting off at once and Rick could practically feel those hazel eyes cracking open behind his head. He didn’t so much as breathe until Negan lifted his head, looking up and down Rick’s backside to take in their present position. Rick tried to turn his hips away when the man lifted himself up high enough to gauge the front of Rick as well, but the man got the gist that he wasn’t the only one sporting morning wood, piecing together what he had to have been doing in his sleep.

His voice was low and rough in Rick’s ear. “Do you want me to stop, or do you want just a little more?”

Rick’s shame was complete when he actually hesitated a moment. It was because he had just been shocked by the absurd question. Not because he was touch starved. Not because he hadn’t been sexual for months now. Not because he was desperate for the feeling of being wanted when his crippled leg had him otherwise feeling useless 24/7. And certainly not because his dick twitched. “Stop.”

His tone was absolute at least, and Negan made a low hum in the back of his throat like he was skeptical, but released Rick’s waist anyway. “Okay, sorry ‘bout that, Darlin’.”

Rick bolted from the bed as fast as he could, tapping away on his crutches to go use the bathroom and maybe wash off a bit in the sink.

X

It was a day or two later that Rick got to see the map for the first time, looking over Negan’s shoulder as the man laid it out on the kitchen table to look over. Negan didn’t seem to pay much attention to him looking, hardly concerned that Rick _could_ go anywhere, much less that he would. He probably was far more suspicious that Rick might try to usurp the bunker from him while he was out if anything.

Rick knew that that was probably the smarter thing to do, but he just couldn’t bring himself to the reality of such a situation. Killing another person was still too wrong for him to even seriously consider, and even if he could bar the man somehow from getting in, leaving Negan locked outside to bang on the door and be eaten like the stranger before was just not something Rick could do. It was still murder, and that would still be on his hands. He hadn’t been able to save the man from before, but that shit _still_ set heavy on him. If he had gotten to the top of the stairs before Negan he told himself he _would_ have tried to save him, despite the risk it might have been.

According to the map, Roswell wasn’t that much further north of their general location, maybe just a three or four hour walk. It was a fairly big town, but that could work to their advantage to find someplace to hide from Negan, because Rick had no doubts the man would try to find them if he could. As far as he was concerned, they were his, and when a dog runs away you immediately go tracking it down. Maybe they could find help or at least someplace to rest up, try to make it someplace further out that was less populated. If they could make it there at least, Negan would never be able to find them in all the houses and buildings. It was the roads between that Rick and his children would be in danger of being seen. Rick hoped since his home had originally been to the south, Negan might try looking in that direction for them instead.

He had been trying to reach a safe zone in Atlanta, but that wasn’t an option anymore. He had heard about another in Washington DC before the radios had cut out, so he supposed trying to get his kids there would be the best bet.

If they could find a car in Roswell, they could try to make it.

Negan finally noticed Rick looking over his shoulder, scooting his chair back and pulling him down onto his knee to sit. Rick wanted to stand up right away, but the arm around him was once more his prison. “What do you think, Sugar Britches? Where should I go lookin’?”

He wanted to send him in the opposite direction right out, but that was Atlanta, a no-go, and then Negan might assume they had never gone south towards home if he naturally didn’t see them on the way back. He couldn’t send the man north, however, or they would have to try to sneak by him. Rick pointed out Dunwoody to the east. “There. It’s smaller, less of those things probably since it had less people, but large enough there’s sure to be several stores.” Negan hummed against the back of Rick’s shoulder, but he seemed to be considering it at least.

“What are you doing?” Carl asked, having come into the kitchen to get a drink, noting the position they were in.

Rick tried to jump up, failing again because of Negan’s arm. His face flushed red.

Negan cast his boy an easy smile. “Figuring out where I can find those extra batteries you’ve been wanting for your Gameboy of course.”

Carl’s level stare shifted between him and his father. “No, I mean why do you think you can touch my dad like that?”

Rick’s shame burned him like fire from the inside, but his concern was less about his own dignity and more for his son now. He did not want any of what Negan was putting him through to ever spread out to his children. It tore at him that Carl saw it at all, that he couldn’t hide it any better from his eldest, but it was the thought of Negan twisting out the truth to Carl that had his fists clenching.

Negan’s smile became tighter, but never wavered as he met Carl’s challenging stare. “There any reason I can’t?”

Carl’s brows knit in a frown. The twelve-year-old looked at least five years older than he was when he did that. “He tried to get up just now. I think you need to let him go.”

“Carl, go on back to the living-room, please. I’ll be there in a moment,” Rick ordered flatly, willing his son to just listen to him.  

Negan and Carl both outright ignored Rick as they continued to stare each other down. Negan chuckled a bit at the boy’s bravado after a moment. “Little Man, you’re too young to understand how everything works in this new world, but one day I’ll teach ya. Your daddy and me have gotten really close since you all came here and started livin’ off me.” It was a perversion of the truth, and Rick’s rage boiled that Negan would try to twist his son’s mind around like he had tried to do with himself a time or two already. “If I want to touch him that’s really not your business, but I understand you being concerned that maybe I’m hurting him or he doesn’t want it. Does he look hurt to you though?”

Carl’s eyes drifted down to Rick’s broken leg.

Negan laughed a bit at that. “Okay, besides the obvious. I’m certainly not hurtin’ him right now. Besides, if he didn’t want me to touch him, he could just tell me, couldn’t he?” It was spoken so innocently and lightly that it almost seemed like it just hadn’t occurred to Rick to ask, like if he did Negan would let him go; easy peasy lemon squeezy. It was another twisted truth, and they both knew it by the sharp shine in those hazel eyes as they turned to him. “Rick, _Darlin’_ , do you have anything you want to ask me?”

He could, and right now he knew that Negan would absolutely let him go to prove the point to Carl, but he could see by that gleam that he would pay for it doubly later in some way shape or form.

Rick wrestled so hard to keep the outrage from showing as he flatly shook his head. “It’s- it’s fine. Carl, please go back to the living-room,” he tried again, just wanting his son away from the bear he had poked.

Carl continued to scowl at the situation, his blue eyes so like Rick’s own as they stayed locked with Negan’s.

Rick had no choice but to diffuse the situation. He forced himself to relax into Negan’s hold and threw an arm around the back of the man’s shoulders like he had no intention of getting up, as if he was already right where he wanted to be. “Carl, go on now.”

Negan’s lip quirked up in a smirk, knowing what Rick was doing but pleased with it. He took advantage of Rick’s sudden willingness, letting his hand slip from the man’s hip to rest on top of his thigh.

The suddenness of the change of atmosphere seemed to bewilder the boy, his scowl deepening. With just a few more skeptical glances between the two men, however, he slowly trudged back to the living-room, still shooting a few cooler looks at Negan from over his shoulder as he went.

Satisfied, Negan returned to looking over the map, though his fingers trailed lightly up and down Rick’s inner thigh. “He’s a possessive one,” the man chuckled.

X

“Papa, papa!” Judith babbled happily under Negan’s attention as he played with her on the floor one night. He was stretched out next to her on his stomach and was puppeting around her fists and feet in play kicks and punches against his face while making kung-fu noises.

“Whoa! Oh, very good young grass-hoppa’,” he teased her, tapping her foot against his chin again in another play kick that had her giggling in fits. “Whaa!”

Carl sat next to Rick on the couch, both watching from the corners of their eyes as Rick pretended to watch Carl play some fighter game on his dying Gameboy.

“Gonna kick the shit out of Bruce Lee’s walkin’ corpse one day, ain’t ya, Rude-Jude?” Negan cooed to her between more fake baby-punches.

Carl snorted at the display, “Give me a fuckin’ break.”

He had Negan’s attention at that, Rick chastising him softly for cussing. “Got something to say?” Negan prompted. “Speak up.”

“He was talking about the game,” Rick tried to cover.

Negan instantly pushed up to his hands and knees, eyes hard on Rick for the lie.

“Yeah,” Carl insisted, holding up the fighting game for the man to see, backing up his father. “I just lost my third life.”

Negan looked ready to call them both on it, his eyes narrowed on first Rick, and then Carl. His lip suddenly kicked up in a mischievous smirk, however, and Rick tensed as that attention turned to his son. “You know what I think has you suckin’ at that stupid fighting game?”

Carl lifted his chin in defiance of whatever Negan was about to say. “What?”

“Not enough real-life practice.” His hand shot out and seized Carl’s ankle, yanking him down off the couch before Rick could grab him and pulling him onto the floor next to Negan and Judith. Negan picked Judith up and filled Rick’s hands with her before he could protest or try to pull his son back. The man pulled Carl up onto his knees with ease, using only a fraction of his strength as he lightly started to wrestle around with him.

Carl wasn’t smiling like Negan was, and he looked considerably less amused as he grabbed the man’s arms and tried to push back. Negan was careful of Carl, ignoring Rick’s insistence that they not as he held Judith safely aloft, no more amused than his son was at the moment.

Negan let Carl try to push him over, making it apparent just how much he was holding back when once in a while he would give a gentle but firm shove in play that would nearly send the boy sprawling. The more amused he grew, however, the more frustrated Carl became. Rick saw it coming, giving a shout for his son to stop when the boy threw an elbow into the side of the man’s face.

It stunned Negan, catching him in the nose. He let out a slew of curses and backed off, the game suddenly done. “God-fuckin’-damn, Killer.”

Those hazel eyes flashed something dangerous as they turned back to Carl, and Rick actually reached out to yank his boy back, afraid for just a moment that Negan might-

“You throw real hits in a play fight and you’re asking to have one thrown back at ya’ one day,” Negan warned his son, clutching at his nose as he pulled himself to his feet to go see if it was bleeding or not.

The bathroom door slammed behind him.

Rick turned to Carl, his voice strained, but low, “Carl!”

“Dad, he’s such a-

“You can’t fight him, Carl!” Rick pressed, his hand tightening in urgency upon Carl’s arm. “You just can’t.”

“You _won’t_!” his son accused. “You just sit there and take his shit and expect me to do the same? In a few years is Judith supposed just sit back and take it too? When you and mom used to fight there was sometimes this bad feeling that got in the air when she would scream at her loudest and you would shut down and tell her you were done fighting with her about whatever. Here it _always_ feels like that, but it’s weird because nobody is visibly fighting. It’s fuckin’ awful, Dad!”

Rick didn’t scold him for swearing that time, clearly something picked up from Negan. He couldn’t believe the perceptiveness of his son, and his heart broke that he hadn’t been hiding it as well as he had thought. His heart broke again when his son shook off his hold, but Rick let him do so, knowing first hand now how horrible it was to be held onto against one’s own will. “Carl, please listen to me, it won’t be for much longer. We’re gonna go, we just need-

Rick had to stop when the bathroom door opened and Negan came back out, tossing Carl a less than friendly look. There was a darkness to the skin in the corner of his left eye that promised to be at least a partial shiner in the next day or two.

Carl refused to look at him, keeping his eyes on Rick, trying to search out the truth of the promise he had just made. They would have to talk later.

Negan wasn’t one to be ignored, and swaggered his way back into the living room, looming over Rick and his kids. “Nothin’ broken. Everything okay here?”

Rick nodded, chancing a glance up to the man’s examining eyes. “Yeah, Carl’s sorry, he won’t do it again.”

“Well, I think that would mean more coming from Carl. Don’t you, Rick?”

Carl was tense, not wanting to turn and give the man the satisfaction, the fight still in him.

“You had better have something to say to me, lil’ man” Negan warned him, dipping down into a stoop that brought his face nearly level with Carl’s.

Rick’s every impulse was to jump up and throw a few fists of his own in defense of his son and if they weren’t so close to this being over…

He tried to express that to Carl in a look, and eventually Carl turned to face the man next to him, glaring down at the floor between them. “I won’t do it again.”

Negan stared him down for a full minute, and right when Rick opened his mouth to object to the stress the silence intentionally placed on his son, the man clapped a hand on Carl’s back. Perhaps just slightly harder than normal. “Like I said, you suck at those fighting games because you need more practice in real life. And boy, I think this proves I was right about that! You’ll come along into it yet, Killer. Say you’re sorry and we’ll forget all about it.”

Carl bit down on his lip.

“He already apologized,” Rick insisted, trying to spare his son.

“No, you said he was sorry, but he hasn’t yet,” Negan spat at Rick.

“Sorry,” Carl mumbled, wanting it to be done with but clearly not sorry at all.

“You look me in the eye and say it plain. If you’re gonna try to hit like a man, you’re damn well able to apologize like one.”

Carl met the challenge, lifting his eyes to Negan’s, the anger suddenly gone from them, replaced instead by something colder than ice. It was a look Rick had never seen in his son before. Apparently, Negan never had either, because Rick could have almost sworn he saw a shiver run up the man’s back as his son fixed him with that cold, unfeeling stare. “I’m sorry.” This time his tone matched that stare, chilling with its lack of any emotion. 

Negan slowly stood up from Carl, like he was backing off a rattle snake, or maybe getting ready to stomp it down. “I accept your apology.”

X

Rick was kissing Negan. It was a good night kiss, supposedly. An attempt to make up for any lingering issues from the fight with Carl earlier.

The shiner was stretched across the bottom of the man’s eye, all across the cheekbone. It would stay there for at least a week. Negan was leaning back against the headboard, Rick leaning over him and pressed against his chest to better the angle. The man had let him do the kissing for a while now, but he seemed to grow restless after a bit, his hand running over Rick’s hip and leg. He gripped the back of Rick’s thigh and pulled it up across his waist.

The way it naturally opened him up and made him feel more vulnerable to have his leg astride the man made Rick pull back with a gasp.

“Problem?” Negan asked, like they weren’t both in just their underwear and Rick’s position wasn’t a compromised one just because he hadn’t been ordered into it.

Rick tried to tolerate the new position. Negan’s hand squeezed his thigh as he continued the kiss. Negan’s kisses were still very skilled, even if Rick hated the man behind them, and the way the position caused his cock to press against the larger man’s hip… his body couldn’t help but start to respond to it, though it killed him that he did so at all, even just biologically.

Negan was pleased with it though, starting to rub his own interested cock up against the soft inner of Rick’s thigh through his underwear. Rick shuddered as he felt it grow bigger and harder against his skin. Negan held the back of his knee firm, pulling it even higher and moving Rick further to sit atop him. Rick let out a gasping moan despite himself when this lined them up closer to each other, their cocks coming into contact between them and he could feel the heat of Negan’s through both their underwear, feel the firm line of his cock and the dip between the base and his balls as Rick’s own came to rest over them.

It wasn’t his fault that it naturally felt good, but Rick’s shame threatened to burn him alive as Negan rocked his hips a bit and Rick just rode it out, trying to focus instead on the kiss rather than now it felt below the waist. He didn’t want to think of how it felt as Negan’s hands slid to the back of his ass to palm and squeeze through the cotton, pulling his cheeks apart a bit as he rubbed up against Rick.

He didn’t want to think about how his cock twitched against Negan’s with every roll of the man’s hips. He didn’t want to think of how breathless he was becoming as Negan sucked at Rick’s tongue and lips, imagining how that would feel elsewhere.

He definitely didn’t want to think about how he pressed his ass back into it when the covered head of Negan’s cock slid lower to play along his taint and tease around the crack of his ass. Especially as those rough hands pulls his cheeks wider apart so the underwear sank in between them till it was right up against Rick’s hole and allowed Negan to press further in with it.

“S-stop! Stop, Negan! Stop!” he gasped out, just barely able to keep from outright shouting the words. Rick was nearly ready to tear up in frustration with himself and his own traitorous body.

Thankfully, mercifully, Negan backed off a bit, though he tried to bring Rick back to just the kissing. Rick got the air he needed to come back to himself from where he had started to slip, however, and pulled back. His voice was a little firmer. “Stop.”

Negan did, falling lax under the man, his hands slipping to rest on the mattress despite his heavy breathing and frustrated growl. “Goddamn. You sure, Darlin’?”

Rick’s erection was nearly painful as he carefully lifted himself from the man’s hips and moved back to his side of the bed. He wanted to sink into a deep dark hole and- never mind, he supposed he was already in one.

His cock throbbed painfully in front of him, but Rick refused to acknowledge it. Punishment for its betrayal in the first place as he settled on his side facing away from Negan, praying he could sleep it off.

He honestly didn’t expect the man to try to grab him again, and Negan didn’t, but Rick tensed when he heard… noises behind him. If the man was jerking it, he didn’t really want to say something and bring his attention back, but Rick felt like he could feel the man’s eyes on the curve of his ass anyway and he realized his underwear was still wedgied into him.

He had to clear his throat to speak, it felt so tight. “You have to do that?”

“You fuckin’ don’t?” Negan laughed. “Maybe you don’t mind an unbelievable case of blue balls, Saint Rick, but I sure as fuck do! I’ll just be a moment. Less if you felt inclined to help further. I could even return the favor.”

Rick didn’t give validation to the man’s crude remarks. Instead he got up with the intent to go off and use the bathroom to maybe splash some cold water on his face and not have to sit through Negan’s vulgarity. He made it nearly four whole steps before the pain in his leg bit at him, forcing him to reach back for his crutches. He hadn’t even thought about it, not having felt a real shock of pain in his leg for a good while. Plus he had been so distracted.

Negan noticed it, Rick feeling the man’s eyes burning on him with a very different kind of interest as his hand stilled on his own cock, measuring the progress Rick had made. “Gettin’ around a little better these days,” was all he said, though those eyes spoke volumes more.

Rick didn’t answer, just hobbled off on his crutches and hoped that his slip up in revealing the progress his leg had made wouldn’t turn out to be his biggest regret of the night over everything else.  

 

* * *

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

* * *

 

 

Rick slowly woke up from a dead sleep, feeling like something was shaking the bed slightly. It took him a moment to realize he was the one shaking, not the bed, a warm hand on his shoulder trying to shake him awake.

“Dad!”

He startled awake at the sound of his son’s voice hissed in his ear. Unfortunately, it startled Negan out of sleep too, the man sitting up beside Rick before he even knew why, both of them blinking through the darkness to take in Carl standing over the bed. “Je-sus,” Negan groaned, rubbing one of his eyes to try to see through the sleep-haze better. “What the shit, Kid? Nearly made me piss myself. What time is it- damn, it’s too early for creepy serial killer standing over your bed bullshit.” With that he fell back on the bed, ready to resume sleep.

Rick pulled himself closer to his son, worried something was really wrong. “What is it?”

“Judith woke up fussing, and then she didn’t want to go back to sleep. Can you come try?”

Rick was thankful when Negan rolled his back to them with a groan to get back to sleep.

He got up from bed, Carl handing him the crutches and leading the way to the storage hall. Once there he tested his leg a bit more without Negan’s watchful eye, finding himself more or less able to hobble down the hall on it with moderate amounts of pain. A few more weeks of nursing it perhaps. He didn’t need it to not hurt, he just needed to be able to walk on it anyway without fucking it up if the time came and he wasn’t fully healed.

Judith was sleeping soundly on Carl’s mattress when they reached the backroom.

“She must have fallen back asleep,” the boy shrugged, not caring if Rick knew she was never fussing in the first place or not. He turned to his father then, keeping his voice low. “You said we’re leaving. Soon?”

Rick wasn’t surprised, expecting this to happen sooner or later. So long as Negan was fast asleep, he figured this was as good a time as any, starting in on telling Carl roughly what his plan was. He could only hope it would make the boy understand the need to tread carefully around the man who brought them here for a little longer.

He had expected his son to be scared, or at least hesitant to leave the safety they knew here for the freedom they might not reach. Carl was never going to stop surprising him from this point out, it seemed, nodding his head in determination when Rick was finished and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We’ll make it, Dad. You won’t let it go any other way.”

That part was true, anyway. Rick pulled Carl in tight against him in a hug. No matter what, his children had to be free and safe. That was how this had to end. If it meant carrying them every step of the way through the depths of hell to escape it and deliver them into heaven, he would do it, even if he didn’t make it there with them.

X

Carl was getting along with Negan again. As far as Negan was concerned, anyway. In the days following he tolerated all of the man’s teasing and shenanigans. He was respectful when speaking and made no outright attempts at avoidance of him. Negan seemed to be too much of a narcissist to try to look into how Carl might have been actually feeling about everything so long as he was going along with the program.

Rick found himself wondering sometimes about Lucille, not the bat but the man’s late wife. Sometimes he just wondered what kind of woman she was to have been with someone like Negan. Even if he had played by most of society’s rules before, some of these personality traits couldn’t have been new developments of the world ending.

It was maybe a week later that Rick got the scare of his life that they wouldn’t be able to put his plan into action. It had been an accident, but that hardly mattered. He had been cooking on one of the rare occasions, Negan taking a nap before supper and Carl and Judith waiting in the living room to eat. He had been trying for stir-fry according to directions Negan had given him before his nap. He had hoped at the time that it would be a neutral way to earn points with the man he was trying to keep off his back by offering to make it.

He had never predicted the oil would get too hot and start a grease fire. He had never caused an outright fire in the kitchen before, and he gave a shout, only able to turn off the burner and jump back as the pan lit up with fire. He knew not to pour water on it, but he couldn’t remember where the fire extinguisher was, only vaguely aware of Carl shouting at him in the background and the smoke detector going off, startling Judith and making her release wailing sobs, each noise louder than the last and the fire still burning as Rick hobbled around and tried to find the damn extinguisher.

“Fuckin’ Christ!” Negan’s voice boomed through the kitchen. He rushed in and shoved Rick out of the way roughly so he could grab the baking soda out of the cupboard and dump all of it onto the pan, the fire going out. There was a fury in his eyes when he tossed the box aside and turned back to him that instantly had Rick’s guard all the way up, backing further away on one crutch. The other he had been using less over the week, just needing the one on his bad side still.

“The fuck you tryin’ to do, Prick?!” Negan thundered, accusing as if it had been on purpose. “You wanna burn this place the fuck down or something? End of the fuckin’ world and you wanna go out by way of kitchen fire! Fuckin’ really?”

Judith was still wailing. The detector was still blaring. Carl was outright glaring at Negan from the living-room.

Rick held a hand out to try to calm down the man so it didn’t escalate further, his cop training telling him to remain calm and defuse the situation. “It was an accident, honest. I’m sorry. All that’s ruined is dinner at least. Everyone’s safe, Negan. That’s what matters.”

“Because of me, yeah. Shit would be all fuckin’ burned to hell otherwise. What the fuck were you doin’ just standing there?”

“I wasn’t. I was trying to find the extinguisher.”

“Fuckin’ useless… nearly kill everyone over stir-fry. You can’t even make one damn dinner but I’m supposed to be leaving you here on your own for- Shut her up will ya!” he roared in frustration towards Carl over the noise of his sister and the alarm.

Rick move between Negan and his children, squaring off regardless of the damn crutch. His tone was downright deadly as he glared up at Negan. “Don’t you ever yell at my son like that again!”

Something burned in Negan’s eyes at Rick’s audacity for opposing him, even over his own children.

Rick wanted his children as far away as possible with a look like that on the man’s face. “Carl, take Judith to the back room. I’ll check on you later.” At least back there the noise would be muffled coming from the kitchen. Carl stiffly stood there like he might refuse, but blessidly heeded his father’s order, picking up his still-sobbing sister and rubbing her back assuredly as he carried her off. Once they were out of sight Rick turned back to the bigger man. “I’m gonna turn the fire alarm off,” he informed him stiffly.

Negan turned from him sharply with a huff to stalk over to the stove to shove away the burned pan.

Rick got the alarm to stop after a moment or two, having to very precariously hop his way up onto a chair on his good leg to hold the reset button on the alarm. By the time he got back down, Negan had finished looking into the damage that had been done, rounding back on Rick now that noise levels had been improved.

He was still visibly irate, but not outright raging anymore at least. It didn’t mean Rick’s position was any better as Negan stepped up to loom over him. He was only in a white tee and sleep pants, but he was still intimidating as he placed his hands on his hips and glowered down at Rick. “I gotta fuckin’ repeat myself here, Rick. I’m having some serious fuckin’ doubts about how good an idea it is to take a longer trip and leave you here on your own. Am I gonna be coming back to a big hole in the ground full of fuckin’ ash?”

“I don’t have to use the oven while you’re gone,” Rick protested. “It will be fine. I… I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ sure you are,” Negan dismissed.

Rick was sincere in his apology for this true accident, frustrated that Negan chose not to believe this one when so many false ones that had been allowed to slide. Granted, those had been minor transgressions that never should have needed an apology in the first place really. “I am. I’ll clean it up.”

“If you’re really sorry you got a lot more to be apologizing for than just almost killing us all.”

He hadn’t, but Rick couldn’t even argue that point because he still didn’t know where the extinguisher was so there was indeed a universal chance the fire could have gotten really out of control really fast. If it had indeed gotten away from him…

Negan had been the one to put it out, and no matter how much of an ass he was about it, Rick wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t. “I _am_ sorry, I wasn’t finding the extinguisher, and you were the one that put out the fire, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be entrusted to keep my children safe without you here breathing down my back.”

“I’ll take it under consideration,” he scoffed flippantly.

Rick’s fists clenched, his own anger coming up on him more. “Negan, what do you want from me here? I said I was sorry.”

“You growl your way through a sorry or two and thought it actually came off at all genuine? Is a growled little sorry supposed to replace the food that you wasted or the pan that’s gonna be a bitch to clean? That baking soda is wasted now too. Is a sorry gonna replace that?”

There was nothing Rick could say that was going to smooth the situation right now, so he didn’t try to call Negan back when the man stormed back into the bedroom to try to finish his nap. He had two other children to worry about anyway, opening up a box of cereal for supper instead.

X

Negan didn’t try to hold Rick at all that night, ignoring his presence in the bed entirely when he eventually went to bed. It didn’t bother Rick that he wasn’t being held, entirely. It did worry him, however, that Negan might change his mind about giving him his bullets back and leaving them on their own.

He couldn’t have that.

The next day the man still was holding it over him, hardly saying two words to Rick unless it was to make a cutting remark about his screw up with the grease fire. He made a comment once about how Rick was careless because it was Negan’s place and Negan’s things and it was all he could do to not rage at the man that he knew better than that. He didn’t dare bring up Dwight and Sherry. He wasn’t about to shoot himself or his son in the back like that.

Carl was having an even harder time holding his temper given Negan’s antics than Rick was, glaring at every cutting remark and not willing to speak two words unless he had to to anyone.

It was that way still the next day too, and Rick knew it couldn’t continue.

Whatever it takes, he told himself, he had to get Negan on his side again.

He put the kids down for the night, telling Carl not to fret because he would make it okay. Carl had looked doubtful as he went to sleep, and Rick hoped in time his son _wouldn’t_ come to understand.

Negan was still ignoring him when Rick made his way to bed, giving him a fairly cold glance as Rick stripped down to his underwear and climbed in under the covers. He felt like his heart would beat out of his chest as he slid in closer to Negan. He reached down deep to gather his courage and steel himself for what he had to do. Slowly, hesitantly despite his resolve, he turned and placed a chaste kiss against the man’s bare shoulder.

Those hazel eyes snapped to him then, instantly suspicious. Rick had to admit, he had every right to be. He wasn’t doing this because he just wanted to. He wanted something from the man, and Negan had to know that. No doubt he knew exactly what that was too, even though it was against the unspoken rules of the war they were locked into to call Rick out on it outright.

Instead he watched, silent for once as Rick placed another kiss against his collar bone and slowly worked his way towards the man’s neck. Only when Rick’s lips were about to find the man’s jugular did he jerk back an inch or two. “What are you doing, Rick?”

 _Trying to get what I want from you so I can take my kids and go._ He kept himself soft-spoken when he answered. “I’m kissing you. I told you I was sorry before, you mentioned I wasn’t particularly coming across as sincere. Does this not seem more sincere?”

It sounded like flirting, but that was the fucking point. Rick tried not to berate himself too much mentally as he pressed his lips against Negan’s neck. The less he let himself think about any of this the better. His beard had been starting to grow back, and the hairs scraped Negan’s own stubble as he moved higher to place another along his jaw.

“It’s not a bad start,” Negan relented, letting Rick’s lips find his.

He didn’t wait as long as he usually did for Rick to direct the kiss before reaching up to grip the longer curls at the back of Rick’s head in his hand, crushing their lips together as he returned and then sort of took over the kiss. They kissed for a while until they were both short of breath before Negan jerked Rick back by his curls. Rick couldn’t help the hiss that left him at the sting, Negan’s eyes dilating at the noise. He nuzzled Rick’s bottom lip a bit, his eyes fixed there in interest as he pulled back. “This mouth of yours… I’ll bet it’s good for more than just sassin’ off and talkin’ back. Just how sorry are you tonight, Darlin’?”

Rick had been prepared for this already. He still had to close his eyes for a moment for the extra focus it took to push back his revulsion. It wasn’t for the act itself, but the disgusting situation he found himself in. Negan was a good-looking man, but that didn’t make this any easier either, Negan’s appearance not even factoring to Rick anymore for how repulsive the man was becoming to him in every other way with each passing day.

Rick pushed back from him, but not in rejection, just so he had the room to stiffly move down on Negan’s body. While he braced himself for the task at hand, he stalled by pressing more kisses to Negan’s hairy chest and stomach. Only when he started peppering small ones across the man’s hips did a bulge begin to form under the cotton of his underwear.

Rick wasn’t sure if it counted as selfish or not, be he tried not to think of it as being Negan’s dick at all when it was growing so close to his face. He tried to think of it more like his own. This way he could maybe do okay making this good, and also as extra incentive not to bite it. He knew what felt good on his own, so he just thought of that as he licked a long line up the base of the shaft through the fabric.

Negan made a little noise in the back of his throat, and Rick told himself this could work as he hooked his fingers in the band of the tight underwear and pulled them down to reveal the steely flesh underneath. It stood up to meet him, and Rick froze when Negan’s hand threaded back into his hair to hold on. Negan didn’t use it to direct him, thankfully, waiting for Rick to make his own move. Again, not forcing even though it wasn’t truly an act of willing passion.

Rick tried to remember his own pleasure, flicking his tongue under the head before drawing it into his mouth. The foreignness of the act was a marvel to him, but thankfully not all together unpleasant in taste or texture. Negan’s breath was deepening, shifting his hips carefully under Rick to get more comfortable but not ram himself in at the same time. “Well I am impressed, Darlin’. I didn’t think you were this serious yet. You know, about us,” he joked, tossing a wink down at Rick.

Oh, he was always very serious when it came to Negan, always.

He took the man in deeper, trying to get this over with as he sucked and licked softly around the shaft. Negan groaned and let his head fall back, letting himself enjoy it. “Oh damn… you can not convince me you’ve never sucked cock before! Je-sus! If this is how good you are straight out the gate just how much of a fuckin’ pro will you be once I really get you broken in on it?”

There was a con to doing this Rick had failed to anticipate. Not being able to shut Negan up by kissing him was more annoying than Rick had ever expected. It made everything so much harder to bare. Negan’s hand on the back of his head applied a gentle pressure to coax him down further, though whenever Rick pulled back it allowed him to do so. With his mouth full it was already difficult to breathe, and when the blunt head bumped into the back of his throat he couldn’t help but gag and pull off. He gasped for air around saliva that had been thickened with the mix of precum in his mouth, several strands keeping him connected to the head even after he had pulled back a bit.

Negan stroked his temples and cheeks gently, “Whoa there, Cowboy. You okay? Ride get a little too rough?” His words were teasing, but his tone was soft and held concern. It was a little too familiar to the way a lover might speak and Rick shook his head to try to shake off so it didn’t make this any more confusing to him than it already was.

“’m fine,” he choked out.

He forced himself back to task, taking the base of the shaft in his hand to work until he could find air enough to return to it. This time it was less a surprise when the blunt head found the back of his throat. Rick took it better.

Negan was vocal even without words, groaning and hissing and gasping at Rick’s every touch, watching him work with dark eyes. “Fuckin’ fuck!”

_Don’t think about him, just think of yourself, how this feels when it’s done to you. The sooner he cums the sooner this is done._

The issue with this particular method of coping with the task at hand hadn’t occurred to Rick until it was too late. Thinking about how this would feel on himself… Rick Jr was waking up, stirring with interest at the memories of pleasure as Rick mimicked what he liked on the other man. It was a nuisance, but not unmanageable, and Rick was ready to just let it go ignored.

Negan, however, had no such intent. He leaned forward over Rick, sliding a hand down his back and pressing on his side to get Rick to turn his body perpendicular on the bed. He did so, hesitantly. This put him more within the man’s reach, and that hand petted appreciatively over his back, down his shoulder and arm, over the calf of his leg, and even over the curve of his ass cheek. Where ever the man saw fit to touch him. The occasional ‘lovely’ ‘nice’ or ‘beautiful’ would drop from Negan’s lips every so often. 

As he worked his mouth over Negan, the man’s fingers slid under him to his chest, playing with and rolling a nipple between his fingers. Rick tried to suppress a shiver from the contact. That hand trailed down further under him, finding and cupping his growing erection through his underwear, deft fingers slipping in under the seams to push them aside, giving his cock an escape route.

When Negan’s fist closed around him, Rick pulled back from his sucking once more. “This time can just be about you,” he insisted, not wanting this to seem like anything more than the tradeoff it was. Negan pleasing him too made it more intimate, more complicated, and frankly, despite how good it felt Rick didn’t want the man’s hands on him out of principle.

Negan grinned down at him, as if reading the reason behind Rick’s protest. “Don’t be ridiculous. This will never be just about me. It’s about you too, Rick. Relax. If you want me to enjoy this than stop pretending that you don’t.” He stroked over Rick’s hanging cock as he said so, and Rick could barely see straight for how good it felt despite himself.

Unable to stop Negan from doing as he wished, Rick doubled his efforts into getting Negan off quickly. He moved his hand to meet the bobbing of his head, worked his tongue, hollowed his cheeks, sucked harder.

In return for each effort spent Negan put in his own in fisting Rick’s cock, adding a twist to his wrist in the strokes, squeezing around the head, cupping the balls now and then and playing with them gently. Rick could hardly even see for how close it brought him to his own release.

It was only a few minutes before they were both grunting and growling and gasping from the mounting pleasure, both coming up on the peak of it.

“Rick! Fuckin’- deeper Darlin’! Open wide for me. Hold it back there- gonna feed it straight into your fuckin’ stomach!”

Rick mindlessly complied, his attention split as his own cock throbbed in Negan’s firm grip, his balls tightening with his impending release as the man squeezed the head.

Negan’s cock throbbed in his mouth and Rick’s eyes blew wide as he realized why. The act of Negan cumming down his throat, filling him and forcing him to swallow was so taboo and so surprising that Rick found himself pushed over the edge too, cumming hard in the man’s hand, his release painting Negan’s hip for how far it shot out.

The salty taste on the back of his tongue as he pulled off for air was so different to Rick, and he tried to hate it more than he actually did.

Both of them were left gasping, Negan collapsed back against the headboard, Rick sinking onto his side next to the man, facing the foot of the bed, his head pillowed on Negan’s warm stomach. He tried to tell himself he only tolerated it when that same hand that had just gotten him off stroked over his cheek and the side of his neck, caressing him.

Negan just had to break the silence, of course. “Holy shit, Darlin’. You probably needed that even more than I did.” He laughed to himself. “Alright, alright… I definitely accept your apology. If that’s how you do it, then you can try to damn near kill us all anytime you want!”

Rick closed his eyes tight and almost wished he was dead.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave Kudos or review to show you enjoyed and I thank you for both!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> However you think this story is going to go, you are probably wrong, even if you start to think you are right. Hope you enjoy

* * *

 

 

“Come have a drink with me, Darlin’,” Negan called from his spot at the kitchen table.

Rick had just put his kids to bed. At Negan’s beckoning, he limped his way over on his crutch. Just like before, Negan’s temperament had been perfectly pleasant towards Rick and his children since Rick had kowtowed to him several nights ago. With no more fires, there had been nothing else to incite the man’s anger, and he had been looking at the map he had gotten during the past couple nights before bed, figuring out his trip.

Tonight too, the map was laid out before him on the kitchen table, as well as two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

Rick couldn’t refuse, always willing to put off going to bed with the man.

That was one change that had taken place between them. Since the other night when Rick had taken it further between them, Negan now took more liberties with Rick during the good night kisses that Rick gave to keep him pleased. When the kiss would deepen his hands would roam more, seek out more.

Sometimes it was just touching, building up and then backing off before they both eventually settled down to sleep in the curl of each other’s bodies. Last night it was more again, Negan testing Rick’s amenability with soft pets and strokes and kisses as he had laid the man out underneath him, moving to lie on his stomach between Rick’s legs and showing Rick how breathtaking it could be when someone that knew that they were doing alternated between using the coarse rasp of facial hair and a soft hot mouth against him.

Afterwards, when Rick had been panting through the post orgasm, Negan had further tested his passive form by hitching his legs a little higher up for access to other things.

It had shocked Rick so; causing him to kick out on reflex and give a shout when that wicked tongue prodded at a place he had _never_ been touched before.

When he had gone from relaxed to high alert in the span of a microsecond and climbed halfway up the headboard to get away, Negan had let him go, trying not to laugh too hard at his reaction.

“Okay, okay, I get it… too much!” he had chuckled. “I apologize, Darlin’. Next time I’ll be sure to ask first.”

Rick tried to put it from his mind now as he slid into the empty chair next to Negan’s.

The man poured them both a drink, still looking over the map. Negan let out a sigh after he downed his drink. “I think I got my plan ready, and I’ll head out for Dunwoody early morning the day after tomorrow. I’ll have to scout around a bit when I get there, but I’m hoping I can make it back just after dawn the following day.”

Rick’s heartrate kicked up in his chest at the announcement. It had been nearly a month now since Negan first brought up the idea of going further. It had seemed like such a long time to wait, and now it was within reach. Rick was both excited and nervous for it, but he was ready. He used the one crutch still, but his leg could support him well enough without it. He just wanted to give it every chance he could at further healing right up to the moment it was time to run.

It would be at least three hours on the road walking between where they were and Roswell. He had added on time in his head for the fact he had a still healing leg and two small children with him, and they might have to hide out along the way. Or run if they came upon monsters.

Speaking of the monsters-

“I mentioned before that I would leave you some protection while I was out, to defend this place with. Do you think there’s any reason that might not be a good idea, Rick?”

 _Yes, because I plan to use it to protect my family as we escape from here._ “None whatsoever.”

 The alcohol burned as it went down his lying throat.

Negan considered it in silence, but gave no answer either way. Rick didn’t like not knowing if he would get his bullets back or not, but so long as he wasn’t getting an outright no he wouldn’t press the matter too much yet and risk rousing Negan’s suspicions.

More drinks were poured and consumed as Negan walked Rick through his planned trail and destination. Rick followed along, finalizing his own plan in his head, memorizing as many roads and towns as he could since the map would be going with Negan on his trip.

It was as the man was folding up the map, his plan all finalized that Negan turned his attention fully to Rick. “You know the expression ‘Man makes plans and God laughs’?”

Rick did.

Negan let out a scoff. “It’s a good saying. A good reminder that sometimes we plan and plan and plan… just to have it all count for shit, Rick, ya know?”

Rick wondered if this was going anywhere, refusing to give any clear reaction to it as Negan studied him from over his glass. Sometimes the man just talked to talk. Rick was reminded of another expression, ‘stirring the pot’. That’s what Negan did, trying to bring any issues to the surface.

“Personally, I plan to get the last laugh over that bastard when all this is done,” the man chuckled, taking another drink.

“You might be overestimating yourself,” Rick replied dryly.

Negan shook his head. “I don’t think I am. I am and always have been a tenacious fucking bastard. I’m not certain I would die even if one of those bastard rotters out there bit me, just out of sheer stubbornness to keep fuckin’ livin’. That’s how they kill you, in case you didn’t know. They bite you. Seen it happen when this shit all went down. Some bacteria in their bite causes this fever that kills you. Then you turn. The only way you stay dead-dead is if the brain is injured. Lucille has helped more than a few of those fucks out with that issue,” he rambled, referring to his bat.

 _Good to know_ , Rick thought to himself, figuring that meant he would have to shoot for the head if they came across any of those things. “You only become a monster if they bite you then?” he asked, already knowing that wasn’t the case by what he had found prior in Negan’s closet.

 Negan clammed up a bit at that, blatantly considering not saying, his gaze heavy upon Rick. It was clear when he came to a decision against it too. “Don’t even worry about it, Darlin’. So long as you’re down here you and the kids are safe anyway.”

 _He wants you afraid,_ Rick’s own mind offered up again. _If you’re afraid you won’t go out._

Rick took another drink, considering his next question. “Did you know anyone that turned?”

Something deep and private and suffering passed behind Negan’s eyes. Rick knew instantly who the man was thinking of.

He let some of his own pain break through the surface of his face too. Before he left Negan behind forever, he had to know something from the man. “I guess… I just can be thankful that Lori wasn’t bit. If she had turned… she would probably be out there somewhere… one of those things, don’t ya reckon? I don’t- I don’t know if I could live with that. I wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of my wife being out there like that still.  But that’s not the case at least, right?”

There was a soft cracking noise, and it took him a moment to realize it was coming from Negan’s fists on the table in front of him, tightening so hard the bones were popping.

“No, Rick,” he finally spoke up after a moment, his voice thin with restraint. “That’s not the case, for you. You’re luckier than that I guess.”

Rick didn’t breathe a sigh of relief in front of the man, but he was thankful to hear it. She must have hit her head in the accident then. He felt like Negan would at least hint otherwise if there was any chance she wasn’t dead-dead.

The man got up and excused himself for the night without so much as another word.

Rick wasn’t stupid, and his intuition told him that there was a strong chance that Negan’s wife Lucille was a different matter entirely. For that his heart _did_ ache for the man.

X

 

The next day passed in all normalcy, going through the familiar routine after Negan announced to Carl during lunch that his savaging trip was on for early the next morning. The child had tried not to look too excited, passing it off as liking the idea of Negan finding and bringing back the extra batteries for his now dead Gameboy.

The man had laughed and ruffled his hair, promising to keep a look out.

Later on, Rick had watched from the bedroom door as Negan loaded up a supply bag after supper, making a mental list of his own for things to pack as soon as the man was gone. He would have to take a few things from Negan, to keep himself and the kids alive, but he wouldn’t rob the man blind. They could all come through this fine. Negan would survive here, and Rick and his kids would find somewhere else to do the same.

Negan still hadn’t said anything about Rick’s bullets.

“You gonna miss me?”

“Hmm?”

Negan grinned at him. “You’re watching every move I make today. Are you gonna miss me that bad?”

Rick scolded himself harshly inside, but forced a self-berating smile to his face for the man’s sake. “I guess I’m just nervous for tomorrow.” It was the truth at least, let Negan think that nervousness was for him. Rick had no doubts the man would be fine. His main concern was how long he might come after them once he realized they had fled. How fast might he drag them back here to plant under his rule once more if he found them. How much worse will it all get? Those were worth being concerned about.

 _That won’t happen_ , Rick told himself. _We’ll never see him again after tomorrow. Never know the crushing weight of his boot again._

“Well come here and show me how much you’ll miss me, Sugar Britches,” Negan invited with a devilish smile.

 _This is the last night_ , Rick reminded himself, limping in on the crutch.

The kiss he gave as he leaned up to reach the man’s lips was chaste, but he hoped to get by with it by lingering as if it were meaningful. Negan’s arms settled lightly around his back to hold him closer, but followed his lead for the soft kiss, his lips brushing lightly against Rick’s own.

When they did, something in Rick’s chest fluttered at the soft contact, and it startled him enough to make him pull back sharply, the fear and confusion lingering as if he had just woken up from a nightmare. Slapped awake. He knew it had shown on his face, as thrown by it as he had been. He wasn’t able to cover it from Negan.

Those hazel eyes were intense, looking for the reason behind such a look, but not asking.

“I-uh, stood on my leg wrong there,” Rick tried to cover, moving back until Negan’s arms fell from him.

“Careful, Rick,” he murmured, and Rick couldn’t be certain if it sounded more like concern, or a warning.

He nodded to simply show he had heard, making his way back out of the room. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

X

Negan’s body was large and warm against Rick’s back, spooning in tight around him. The man held him close, and cradled him gently. He could be gentle when he wanted to be, and like everything else, he employed that tenderness when it best served him.

Rick knew why he was being this way now, on the eve of his leaving. With anyone else it might have been affection, and maybe it partially was, but it was also insurance. He didn’t want Rick trying anything while he was gone, so he wanted to be in Rick’s good graces as well, at least until he returned.

His lips pressed lightly to the short hairs on the back of Rick’s neck and another aggravating flutter started up in his chest despite knowing better. It was a dangerous thing to be so touch-starved and isolated. Rick refused to let himself think about it, but he was savoring the way Negan was holding him anyway, knowing an ugly little traitorous part of him would probably miss it the next night.

_Come stay in my web, said the spider to the fly._

“I’m gonna miss you, Darlin’. That’s for damn sure.”

Rick hummed in response, throat too dry for words, mind too agitated to think of anything smart to say.

Negan shifted on the bed and pulled Rick back to turn him onto his back. Rick allowed it, not wanting to take any chances whatsoever now that freedom was just hours away. He laid on his back staring up at those dark eyes above him. They stared back down at him with a contented tenderness that he neither expected nor welcomed.

When Negan leaned forward to properly initiate the kiss for the first time, Rick was shocked to realize that it was indeed the first time he had done so. All the others had been placed on Rick to start. Even that first time, Negan had asked for it, but Rick had been the one to close that gap and start the physical act.

When those lips touched his it was gentle, almost hardly touching at all. It was soft, like Negan’s breathing, and warm, like Negan’s body and Rick’s brows drew together at the confusing signals and cues it caused in his own mind. He wanted to shove Negan off of him not because he hated the kiss, but because he didn’t so much when it was soft like that.

It changed _nothing_.

The mind was stronger than the body, however, because Rick’s body seemed to have a harder time remembering what kind of bastard Negan was and all that he had done to them during their containment here. Rick almost growled at his own self when Negan’s soft lips moved to his neck and he felt something flutter inside of him again. Just for a microsecond, but it had been there. Negan liked to say there was something between them, and that might not be entirely untrue, but it was buried too deep under all the shit that he had heaped between them since then to count for anything real.

Rick hated this man. He would admit to himself that he was also afraid of this man, though that was more because of what he could do to those Rick loved more than anything he could do to _him_.

That didn’t stop Negan’s lips on his skin from feeling good as they found a sensitive spot under the line of Rick’s jaw, stroking and sucking softly at it till the feeling was shooting down Rick’s prone body.

It didn’t keep his breath from catching to betray that it felt the way it did, and Negan’s breath puffed against him in a soft chuckle before he continued to work that spot again. His hands were barely touching Rick, trailing down the outside of Rick’s arms so slowly and softly they more or less just moved his arm-hairs, but Rick felt it all so clearly. Negan sucked just a little harder at the spot under his jaw and a pang of something pleasurable stabbed through him so suddenly he couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped him.

Negan smirked against him, not loosing that soft touch as he brought those hands back up Rick’s arms and inwards of his shoulders to ghost slowly down over his bare chest. Rick’s breathing hitched when those rough fingers just barely moved down over his pebbled nipples. All the nights they had kissed, Negan had never had to do so little to make him feel it so much.

His feelings for the man be damned, his body was soaking up the softness like a salve. Rick reminded himself of the shit Negan had put him through, the manipulations and the worry of what was to come. They helped calm him down, but Negan’s lips were still softly kissing against him, moving slowly down his chest as well as those hands moved to the sides of Rick’s torso, leaving light scratch-marks from his nails in a trail of pink lines. The first firm contact came when those same hands gripped the sides of Rick’s ribs to hold him as Negan’s tongue flicked lightly over one of his hardened nipples.

That feeling when straight to Rick’s cock and he groaned softly at the feel. Since the night he had performed oral upon the man Negan had retuned the gesture a few times throughout the week, carefully not taking it further. It gave Rick a sense of security enough even now to relax a bit into the touch that was unfortunately becoming familiar to him. Negan’s tongue softly worked him up further, circling and flicking before his lips met the skin around it to suck at and carefully run his teeth along. His hands squeezed more firmly at Rick’s sides to ground him through the heady sensation it caused.

Rick’s back arched a bit into the touch before he could stop himself, forcing himself back down against the mattress they had shared for a while now. Negan didn’t let up, leaving the bud shiny with his own spit as he pulled back and blew cold air softly over it. The sudden change from hot to cold had Rick’s jaw clenching in a hiss of pleasure as his head kicked back.

Negan turned his attention to the other one, performing the same light teasing at that one too before sucking at it gently, leaving the other one to chill in the air of the darkened bedroom.

Rick’s body was alight as the man he hated worked him up without even touching anything real important. Blood was rushing south quicker than he would ever admit out loud as Negan’s nails gently ran down his sides to his hips, pinning them against the bed as he let go of the other nipple and blew over that one too.

Rick watched like it was happening to someone else, but he could feel all of it as Negan moved further down his body, lips trailing and tongue laving tenderly down his stomach and over the curls leading even lower on Rick’s hips. Rick could see he was hard, and his cheeks pinkened in frustration and embarrassment he didn’t think he could stand if Negan pointed the fact out to him right now.

Those hazel eyes found his own in the dark, but thankfully the man said nothing as he moved lower. All he could do was rub it in. There was nothing he could say that they both couldn’t already see.

Rick bit off a moan as that wicked tongue stroked over his hot flesh and that hot mouth enveloped him. Negan made no bones about taking him in all the way down his throat from the word go. The man had a talented mouth, that much Rick could give him no matter how much he detested him.

Negan sucked him deep, working him and stroking at him with his mouth, but for everything he did… he went slow about it. He was so unhurried, like they had all the time in the world and again every touch felt that much _more_ to Rick. His legs fell open a little more around the man’s broad body as that tongue practically massaged around his cock. It wasn’t enough to get him off, but it could get him up to the edge and keep him there indefinitely if Negan kept working him like this. His hands pet down the sides of Rick’s ass and thighs, stroking and encouraging him to just enjoy the feel, to let it work him up and wash over him.

Rick’s breaths were nearly hisses as they panted out of him. Negan tucked his arms in from the outside of Rick’s thighs to the inside and slid them under the backs of his legs to open them up wider on either side of his head and give himself more access. He pulled off of Rick’s cock so abruptly that Rick nearly protested before he could bite down on his goddam lip. He moved to toy with Rick’s balls instead, tonguing at them and playing with the skin tightening around them.

It caused Rick’s eyes to nearly go starry as his back arched up.

It was a whole different sensation when Negan’s breath puffed over Rick as he spoke against him. “Let me make it feel even better, Darlin’. I wanna taste more of you. Tell me ‘no’ if you don’t want that. Otherwise, you’ll think you died and went to heaven,” the man promised shamelessly. His hands moved between Rick’s lifted ass and the bed, squeezing and kneading the cheeks to make sure his meaning was sinking in of where he wanted to taste. That same thing he had pulled the other night. It had taken Rick by complete and unwelcomed surprise then, but now he could feel his orgasm building up and the soft puffs of air from Negan’s mouth over that area weren’t helping none as his mind fogged with the memory of it. His cock strained at the idea.

Somehow, his throat seemed to close up on him, the word falling dead on his tongue as his balls ached.

Picking up on the poignant silence, Negan placed a gentle kiss to the underside of Rick’s cock before sinking lower on the bed. He moved slow, giving Rick every opportunity to deny him with but one word. Rick berated and riled against his own silence the entire time, but still he maintained it for God knew what reasons. He was so on edge that the first pass of Negan’s tongue against parts left unexplored nearly caused him to yip, but the feel was like a shock throughout him. It was even worse on the second swipe, a feeling of hot fire that burned too good licking up his insides as Negan’s tongue passed more surely against him.

Just like with his cock, the man kept his touches soft and slow and maddeningly teasing as he worked Rick up in this alternate manner. It left Rick’s eyes blown wide open, and his bit down on his lip till the cut that had healed there from when Negan had shaved him opened back up. It was… amazing. He never wanted to let himself even consider such a thing felt amazing, but it did. His cock had never been so hard, and one of Negan’s hands played over his balls as he kept them up out of the way. He moved in closer, dug deeper, and Rick moaned around the feeling as it stole away all his breath.

Negan pulled back and sucked one of his own fingers, coating it with his spit. “Just making it even better, baby,” he assured him. That slick digit circled Rick’s rim and his whole body broke out in a cold sweat at the implication of what was about to happen. Negan’s mouth returned to his cock at the same time, taking him deep once more to distract as that finger started to work into the rim. Like everything else, it was soft, and slow. He didn’t force it, stroking over the slick hole like his tongue had prior as he sucked Rick languidly.

It started to feel amazing again, and Rick’s body opened slowly under the soft presses Negan would sometimes make between strokes. For one finger, the spit was enough, and after a few minutes of petting at him back there Negan managed to gain access enough to allow one finger. It completely stole Rick’s breath away from him and indeed he thought he might die, but he wasn’t certain if it was out of pleasure or shame yet at the odd sensation.

Negan pulled him in a little deeper down his throat, the feeling bliss enough to relax Rick so that he could turn that finger upwards inside of him and start crooking it in deep. That felt even stranger, and just as Rick was about to lose his nerve and demand the man stop that finger brushed over something and- _oh!_

For a moment Rick couldn’t even comprehend past the feeling. When Negan brushed over it again… _oh God_ , it again shot straight through him like nothing ever before. He was left panting and staring up at the ceiling as every thought came to a grinding halt within him. “Does that hurt, Rick? Do you need me to stop?”

“N-no,” Rick finally managed to squeak out. His body warred with his mind and told him he just needed to feel that again.

Negan might not have been a mind reader, but he could read Rick’s body well enough, curling his finger obligingly and slowly stroking over Rick’s prostate. Each time slower but more firmly till Rick was beside himself, unable to do anything but feel it and writhe with it.

Negan licked at his balls the whole time. He wouldn’t last. He couldn’t. He was about to cum from one finger and he didn’t know if he could live through the embarrassment as his face and chest turned as red as his dick.

Blood was trickling down his chin from where he continued to bite at his own lip, his hips starting to buck against that finger for more. It was cruel when Negan pulled out of him, whispering soft assurances to him in the dark. “Sorry baby, we’re not done, just getting some lube so it doesn’t hurt at all.”

He reached into the bedside drawer on his side, fishing out two foil packets to set aside. The first one contained lube, so Rick remained calm as the man coated his finger and returned to what he had been doing against Rick’s prostate, this time even easier than before. By the time the second finger joined it… damn if Rick couldn’t almost forget how much he hated this man in that moment.

He felt fuller this way, and he had never felt such powerful pleasure stemming out from where Negan was touching him currently.

Negan worked him harder, moving up a little higher. On the bed so he could really start giving Rick some of what his body was demanding so badly, putting the strength of his arm into it as his fingers opened Rick up.

He took it, opening his legs wider to the point of near pain, just needing more of that feeling. To get him to completion on this final night.

Negan moved to his knees, pulling out his fingers to push down his own underwear to free up his own cock and gripped the back of Rick’s thighs again, pulling him up further into his lap. He picked up the second foil pack and Rick could see it was a condom this time. Rick instantly went rigid once more. He wanted it, but at the same time he absolutely did not.

Negan noticed the rigidness and stopped, rubbing soft hands over Rick’s sides to calm him. “Hey now, hold on, Darlin’. No need to get spooked. This can be slow and all about making you feel good, just like everything else up to this point. If you’re not ready, however, just say so.”

Rick knew Negan wasn’t lying about going slow, making it good for him. That wasn’t the issue. Everything between them…

It was all over after tomorrow. No one need ever know about tonight, a traitorous part of his mind whispered to him. It was a part that was starting to sound like the man above him. It would be between them if he said yes, and after they got away it would never be repeated. He could take this and run, literally.

It wore at his resolve, his righteous hatred of the man was in tact no matter what, but he could take this for himself if he wanted.

“No.”

Negan seemed shocked for a moment, uncertain he had heard right. “Speak up, Darlin’.”

Rick shook his head, reiterating. “No, not tonight… when you get back.”

Negan continued to just stare at him, the time stretching out between them till Rick wasn’t certain it hadn’t stopped altogether. After what had to be several minutes, the man slowly leaned forward over Rick’s body, placing a kiss against his lips stiffly like it had just been a deal made between them. His voice was strained as well when he spoke against them. “When I get back then.”

Rick held the man’s intense stare in the dark, unflinching as Negan pulled back a bit more from him. He had expected for that to be the end of it, but instead the man started repositioning them both, laying his heavy cock over Rick’s and supporting himself on one arm as he gathered some of the stray lube from before to slick up their cocks, palming both in his hand. “Unless you plan to absolutely abstain again in all your saintliness- which can’t be healthy for you by the way- I can still at least help us both out here,” he scoffed.

Rick didn’t protest it, his orgasm nearly hitting him just from Negan palming him. Like he figured, he didn’t last long at all as the man rocked against him, stroking them both against each other in the powerful heave of their two bodies. Rick came after just a few strokes with a snapping arch of his spine and a feeling of unfulfillment nagging at the back of his mind for having put a stop to it before.

The pulses of his cock brought Negan over the edge with him and Rick’s head got the chance to clear for the first time as both their cum cooled upon his stomach. Negan collapsed next to him, also unfulfilled but uncomplaining as they both panted through their post orgasms.

He draped a possessive arm over Rick, and in that moment Rick knew he had made the right choice in refusing Negan. He would never get away from the man otherwise.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end, please comment and kudos, thank you!  
> (Despite our most careful planning, the Road of Life is unpredictable.)


	12. Chapter 12

 

 **"** **Little one better run for your life**

 **Little one where you going with that knife?** **"**

Devil is Fine; by Zeal & Ardor

 

* * *

 

 

“You have everything you need?” Carl piped up, holding Lucille for Negan while the man said his good byes to Judith.

“Again, I believe I do,” Negan chuckled, bouncing Judith in front of him until she was giggling up a storm. He brought her in for more rapid-fire kisses all over her little cheeks and nose. “You’re in charge while I’m gone, Baby Girl.” He spared a wink over her head to Rick. “As if she isn’t when I’m here too.”

Rick allowed a small smile, taking her back to balance on his good hip while he leaned on his crutch. Negan stepped closer to him, till they were only inches apart. Those hazel eyes were intense as they searched Rick’s blue. “Be good until I get back, ya hear?”

Rick nodded his head, agreeing to anything to get the man to go.

Negan unzipped one of the pockets of his leather jacket, fishing around inside of it. “Oops, almost forgot… they’ve just been in my pocket for so long-

He grabbed Rick’s hand from his crutch and turned it up for him, letting Rick’s bullets pour into his palm. Rick should have known he would keep them on him whenever he left. Maybe he had just hoped it would be like with his gun, right there within his reach. Honestly, Negan’s coat had been in his reach too many times to count as well. His fist closed around his bullets. He tried to keep his thankfulness for having them be all that showed in his face.

“Thank you.”

Negan grinned in return, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Rick’s.

He didn’t back away only because he held onto the knowledge that this was the last kiss Negan would ever get from him. He could feel his son’s stare intensely.

Negan licked his lips when he finally pulled back, like he was savoring the taste there for another moment. “Mmmmm-mph. Softest mouth this side of the Mississippi!”

Rick’s face burned at the final parting shot, Negan taking great delight in flustering him. He chuckled deeply, giving Carl’s hair a tussle as he turned and headed for the stairwell door from the kitchen. He left it open as he grabbed the hazmat suit, making a show of putting it on as if he actually needed it. “You three take care of yourselves, and don’t do nothin’ stupid while I’m gone, or it will be spankin’s all around,” he teased, another insinuating wink aimed at Rick.

Carl’s face remained flat as he stepped forward to return Lucille to him. Rick couldn’t help be impressed with how well Carl was letting this all roll off of him, but he supposed like himself his son was just about willing to put up with anything right now, knowing it would be over soon and they would never have to put up with any of this humiliation ever again.  Negan slung the bat up over one shoulder, giving a final wave to them all- his gaze lingering the longest on Rick- before closing the kitchen door and making his way up the stairs.

Nobody moved, Rick and Carl and even Judith listening to the sound of his footsteps echoing in the stairwell. Rick held his breath as the top door opened, and he let it go once it closed again. For a few more minutes, they still didn’t move, waiting for Negan to come back and tell them he had only been kidding. Waiting for something to force them to abandon their plan. Waiting for God to laugh.

There was no clear amount of time that passed, but they seemed to reach a moment where it was clear Negan was truly gone, Rick and Carl both relaxing at the same time. Rick led the way into the bedroom and pulled out a backpack from the back of Negan’s closet that they had found while searching around prior. “Carl, go get the diaper bag packed for your sister, and grab all your stuff. Could you change her quick before we head to Roswell?”

Carl took Judith so Rick could set aside his crutch, giving a few tentative steps on his leg around the bedroom. It was stiff, but no pain yet. After some time there would be, or if he pushed it with too much movement or weight it might come sooner than expected, but he would have to make it work. It was promising at least.

Carl gave him an approving smile before taking Judith to do as he had been asked.

Rick also got to work, taking his gun out of the back hem of his jeans and loading it up. He knew already what he needed, loading the backpack with a few changes of clothes- nothing heavy- some basic medicine from the stockpile and first aid supplies, a couple books of matches, a flashlight and some spare batteries, a machete with a red handle that he had found in the back room alongside random other tools, and as much food as he could fit inside of it. He zipped it up so only the machete handle was visible, and went to check on Carl’s progress.

His son had Judith dressed and ready, her diaper bag packed to overflowing, and his own backpack half filled. The other half would be used for additional food. He was in the middle of writing out a note on a scrap piece of paper when Rick reached the back room.

“Ready?”

“Almost.” Carl placed his Gameboy in the center of his mattress, setting the note underneath it so it would be visible. Rick leaned over so he could read it.

‘ _Hope you found batteries- you’ll need this more than I will since you won’t have us to play with anymore.’_

Rick’s first instinct to chastise his child for the pettiness slid right back down his throat, giving way to some sharing of satisfaction with it. He simply clapped Carl on the shoulder and urged him to grab up Judith so they could go.

He tore up a bedsheet to make a long scarf, wrapping it around Carl in a way that he had seen Lori do before with something similar she had gotten at a baby shower so that it would carry Judith against his chest and leave his arms free. Rick knotted it as tight as he could so it would hold. He wished his leg could support the weight so his son wouldn’t have to bear so much, but never did Carl complain. “Don’t forget your hat, Dad.”

It had been set in the corner of the back room since Rick had first woken up. He picked it up, but slid it on Carl’s head instead. It would keep him cooler in the Georgia sun. Judith too since she was right under his chin. It suited him, Carl giving a little smirk and tilting it back a bit.

They filled Carl’s bag with food and together headed up the stairs, Rick taking a look out the little viewing window.

The truck was long gone. There was a walker out there. Just one, about thirty feet away.

 _If you can’t make it past this one, then you might as well turn around right now,_ a little voice told him plainly.

Rick told Carl to stay back, steeling himself for the task at hand.

Negan had said it had to be the head.

Rick opened up the door, easy enough to open from the inside. They wouldn’t be able to get back in on their own once they left without the keys. Carl waited just inside with Judith as Rick stepped out, his focus entirely on the walker. It spotted Rick and turned to make a bee-line on jerky legs, snapping its jaws and growling with vocal cords that didn’t work anymore.

It nearly looked like a person still, which gave Rick a moment’s pause as his stomach coiled. A young man, maybe 18 if he was a day. He had red hair hanging limp and dirty from his head, and wore a ripped-up T-shirt with ‘Johnny Cash’ across the front. Rick was also a fan.

He pulled the machete out of his backpack, thinking of what this thing would do to his children if it could.

The blade sang through the air before it came to an abrupt halt halfway inside the thing’s skull. The blood hid the red of its hair, and it dropped in silence, finally at peace. Rick had to plant his boot on the side of the thing’s head to pull the machete back out, but it had done its job. He kept it out for the time being, jerking his head to indicate Carl could come out.

They were ready to go.

X

Rick had to take out four more walkers as they made their way down the road for Roswell. He would have to take out another still, one having dragged itself after them for the last fifteen minutes or so. It was tedious, and tiresome, and combined with the hour and a half they had been walking he was exhausted and sore. His leg had also been paining him for the last fifteen minutes now. Judith napped against Carl’s chest. Every now and then the child would look up to Rick.

“I could get that one, Dad-

“No.”

“But it’s crawling on all fours, I could reach it easy. You’re tired.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll get it in a moment, I’m just resting while I walk.”

Carl’s eyes narrowed. “I could take the gun if you don’t want me getting close and-

“Two have already spotted us because of noise. Gunfire would draw more. Besides, we need to save the bullets for emergencies or I would just do it myself. I’ll get him in a second. You don’t ever go near them, Carl.”

“But-

Rick stopped walking, turning to face his son in absolute seriousness. “I need you to keep Judith safe. That is how you help me, Carl. You keep your sister safe, and I’ll keep you safe. Do you hear me?”

Carl looked like he had something to say in return, but in the end gave a reluctant nod, obviously wishing he could do more. He was already doing far more than Rick would have ever liked to ask of him. He gave Carl’s shoulder a squeeze, turning to the crawler that was on their tails now to deal with. The machete was proving invaluable.

He turned back to his son afterwards, flicking the fresh gore off the machete blade. “So long as you both are safe, that is all that matters.”

“What’s supposed to keep _you_ safe then?” the boy demanded.

Rick’s lip pulled up in a grim smile. “I guess- my will to see you both grown up and living free. That will be what sees me through this new world.”

Carl’s own lip curled and he pulled the brim of the brown hat lower like he wanted to hide his face. “That’s cheesy, Dad.” He turned and continued on with a shake of his head.

Rick laughed. He guessed it was, but it was the truth.

X

A half hour later Rick’s leg was starting to feel sore enough to make him limp a bit, but they were seeing signs calling out Roswell now.

There were abandoned cars all along the road, noticeably abandoned for longer than others. There had been a few crusted bloodstains left on the road too, not yet washed away since the last rain and baked into the concrete by the sun. Those were nothing compared to the bodies of the dead-dead that were left scattered, as abandoned as the cars had been.

Rick was glad Judith was still napping with her head on Carl’s shoulder so she wouldn’t see it. He was only sorry he couldn’t keep his son from seeing it too. They came walking up on another large sign located just off the side of the road that declared there were only three miles left to go between them and the town. The last leg of the trip so to speak.

Rick heard a growl behind him as they passed by it, turning to see another walker had spotted them, loping after them from about fifty yards back on the road. Maybe he could just ignore that one till they made it to Roswell. It was slow, already falling further behind.

_HONK HONK! HOOOOONNNNNKKKKKKKKK!_

To his credit he didn’t scream from the blaring noise of the car horn, but it was only because he had nearly died of fright outright, his eyes rolling back in his head a bit before he could snap them around to the source.

He almost died of fright all over again.

The devil was certainly laughing at him and his plans if God wasn’t. At the very least, it was currently grinning at him.

Parked behind the road sign, facing towards them, was the large truck that Rick could recall so clearly all of a sudden from all his nightmares. Negan was sitting in the cab, grinning broadly at them all from the driver’s seat. He didn’t wear the hazmat suit, having tossed it in the bed. He had probably done so as soon as he had gone outside.

He leaned his head out the window, giving the three of them a perfectly pleasant wave as if happy to see them.

Startled from her nap, Judith started crying against Carl’s chest. Rick felt the sentiment deeply, his heart racing and mouth gone bone-dry, the sweat sliding down his brow from fear rather than just the heat and exercise now.

Carl moved closer to him, looking up to him for direction. Rick was frozen in the hazel eyes of the devil as he opened up the door and stepped out of the cab, still grinning big as he hopped out. Lucille was in his hand, swinging idly next to his leg like a lazy cat-tail. “Well well well… now this is a _surprise_! I have to say… comin’ all the way out here- I underestimated just how _much_ you would miss me, Darlin’. Just had to come lookin’ for me, huh? Oh, and look at this, bringing the kids out too like it’s take-your-child-to-work-day and you just wanted them to see what their Papa does just so _damn_ bad! I _am_ touched.”

He held his arms and -by extension- Lucille out wide as he stepped in front of the truck, waiting, making a show of the moment as Rick just tried to remember how to breathe. “What- no hug, Rick? I mean- it was _me_ you came out here for, right? Because if you didn’t come searching for me than I can’t for the life of me think of why you…”

He paused then, his arms dropping as if something had just occurred to him from out of the blue, his grin falling. “Oh… maybe you’re all out here for a different reason… maybe the reason you’re out here- with bags full of _my shit_ , I might add- is because the magic is fuckin’ _gone_!” the man barked, making Rick flinch and pull Carl back behind his hip for how ferocious that last word had been combined with the apparent anger now showing in Negan’s eyes.

The large man stepped further onto the road. “I _sorely_ hope that isn’t the case, Rick. Say it ain’t so- that the spark isn’t extinguished, that the honeymoon isn’t over, that this is not- in fact- a blatant showing of disrespect the likes of which I just don’t think my achy breaky _fuckin’_ heart could withstand.” His voice lowered a bit, less showy, more menacing. “Tell me right now, _Rick_ , that that is not the case. Tell me you were out here lookin’ for me.” He stopped just outside of Lucille’s swinging range of them, Rick shaking from all the adrenaline running through him at that moment, his every thought on how to protect his children from this when Negan spoke again, his tone instantly lighter. “Because Darlin’ if that’s the case, _damn_ … I’d be touched. Really, not that I would want you trying this shit _ever again_ , but my biscuit would be buttered that you would miss me that much. And now that you’ve found me, we could all head back home right now… safe… and sound… and ready to start over fresh as a daisy.”

Maybe he was offering to give Rick a chance here, say they were out looking for him, take them all back to the bunker, avoid… whatever he would do to them otherwise. Rick flinched back another step when Negan moved forward the same amount.

“This isn’t your shit anyway!” Carl growled out from behind his father.

Negan shifted his stance at that, his focus turning to the boy at his hip and Rick shoved Carl back a little further, his other hand tightening instinctually on the machete.

“You wanna repeat that? I didn’t catch it. _Speak up_ ,” the man barked.

“I said it’s not your shit!” Carl shot back. “Who’s Dwight and Sherry?”

Something very dark flashed behind Negan’s eyes, locked on the boy’s challenging gaze. For a moment all was silent except for the walker’s growls as it came up closer upon them, now just a few feet off or so from Rick’s side.

“It’s all mine now,” was Negan’s somber answer. “All that shit, and all your shit, and even _you_. What you take in this world, Little Man, becomes your shit. If you’ll excuse me just one damn moment- I gotta take care of _my_ shit.”

The walker reached out towards them, and Negan lurched forward and swung the bat out with such strength and intensity that it nearly popped the head like a balloon of gore all over the road. Rick’s grip on Carl tightened in fear, pulling the boy back even further when Negan rounded on them, a bit of the monster’s blood splattered on his chest and face, the man closer to them now since the swing.

That self-satisfied grin stretched his face. “Wooo, okay! Now the kids have gotten to see Papa at work, so maybe now we all head back, Darlin’. So excited was I to see ya’ I didn’t even think about how that horn is gonna be attracting every one of those things within earshot to this spot. They’ll be making their way here now.” He leaned in closer to Rick, Lucille bloody and dripping behind his shoulder where she rested. “What’s it gonna be, Darlin’? Did. You. Miss. Me?”

Each word was punctuated with underlying threat, those grinning teeth shining in the sun like a blood-thirty beast’s.

Behind Rick, more growling could be heard, more walkers coming out in search of the noise they had heard. Turning his head, he could see three heading towards them, more no doubt on the way.

Lucille shined red in the sunlight, a bit of torn scalp from the walker caught in the teeth of the barbed wire.

Rick swallowed past the dryness of his mouth and throat, knowing what he needed to do to keep his kids safe.

“Carl, get in the truck.”

“Dad!”

Negan’s grin sharpened and his eyes lit up in triumph.

“Carl- _now_ ,” Rick insisted, forcefully moving his son towards the truck.

Negan followed right on his heel. “It’s sweet you missed me, Darlin’, really it is. A man likes to feel appreciated. I’m glad to see the leg’s doin’ well … doin’ too well, in fact. Maybe we’ll see about that later. The next time you bring the kids out here like this though I think you’ll find yourself in for the spankin’ of a lifetime. Try not to let that encourage you too damn much,” Negan laughed.

He leaned in close to Rick’s ear as they neared the truck. “Not that you won’t still be in for your fair share of punishment for this stunt when we get back.”

Rick said nothing as he opened the door to the passenger side of the cab, Carl actually sinking his heels in so the man couldn’t move him further. Rick gave a final strong hoist of his son and daughter inside, slamming the door behind them.

They were in the truck. They were safe from the walkers. They were safe from Negan.

Rick turned almost faster than the eye could track, slashing out at the man with the machete.

Negan only avoided a really devastating cut because of his leather jacket, the blade only cutting maybe a half inch down into the arm that held Lucille.

He screamed in agony and rage, swinging her down on reflex at Rick. Rick had to jump back from the door of the cab, moving further away yet again when Negan switched hands and gave it another swing, Rick’s first attempt a poor flesh wound.

“Mother fucker!” the man bellowed. Swinging Lucille like he meant to bludgeon Rick with her. She hit the side of the truck’s door hard enough to put a sizable dent in it, the bang sounding like a shotgun as Carl ducked away from it inside and Judith wailed.

Rick needed to get him away from his children. He ran past Negan, close enough to put himself in danger of the swing in order to draw and keep the man’s attention fully on himself. It worked, and thankfully the next swing came just a second too late, hitting the side of Rick’s backpack hard enough to knock him off balance. His leg screamed in pain as he caught himself from falling, sprinting to get further away as the bat whistled somewhere through the air behind him again and Negan pursued, both pairs of boots pounding against the concrete.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ break _both_ your legs this time if you don’t get back here!” Negan bellowed.

Rick’s stomach nearly cramped on him in nausea at the thought of ‘this time’, dodging over a car-hood to avoid a walker grabbing for him, putting Negan right front of the thing as he chased him down. He could hear the horrid sound of the bat connecting with flesh, bludgeoning and ripping flesh and crushing bone. The sound of the bone cracking triggered something that had been lost inside of Rick, a memory of a similar crack and then pain flaring all up his body from his leg before he passed right back out from it where he had been laid out on concrete after the accident.

He almost _did_ hurl, taking a powerful swing behind him as Negan closed in on him, the man pulling back a reaching arm to keep from having it sliced open.

Rick pulled his gun, but a walker was suddenly there, grabbing and snapping for him. Rick had to unload one of his six bullets into the skull of the thing, blood spraying from the thing’s putrid mouth into Rick’s face as it gave a final death rattle.

Negan’s bat knocked it to the side before it could even hit the ground, and Rick had to run back from him once more so he wouldn’t get maimed while taking aim.

Two more walkers came at him, and he put a bullet through the eye socket of the one at his left, driving his shoulder into it to knock it to the ground so he could dodge the other one. Negan had to waste that one, giving Rick the distance he needed.

Rick turned the gun on the man, taking aim for his head.

Negan pulled up short from his pursuit, holding his ground and spreading his hands out just a bit as if he was non-threatening. “Whoa, there Rick. Think about what you’re doin’. You’re really gonna commit murder? All I’ve done for you and your kids… the fact that you are all still alive is because of _me_. You’re gonna put a bullet in my skull for that, Rick? Are you fuckin’ _serious_? I would never fuckin’ kill you, Rick. What I do is what you’ve pushed me to do, but killin’ you… I’m just not that big a monster I guess.”

Rick hesitated. Startling when a walker suddenly grabbed his arm, lurching forward to take a bite.

Negan swung hard, the bat catching the thing in the forehead, the tip of the bat inches from Rick’s nose and knocking it back on its ass, dead-dead.

Rick backed off another several feet, even more hesitant now that Negan had saved him from being bit, but still he didn’t lower the gun. He couldn’t.

“You- you broke my leg.”

“I fuckin’ kept you safe, Rick. Who wouldn’t give up an arm and a leg for that? If you didn’t need me… didn’t rely on me… who knows what stupid ideas you might have gotten? Fight or flight- makes thing much neater when neither is on the table. After all, look at where we are right now. As soon as you can walk you pull a stunt like this. Repaying all I’ve given you by runnin’ off on me… stu-pid as _shit_ , Rick!”

He’s insane. “Dwight and Sherry, did you take flight or fight off the table for them too? Lucille’s friends and you-

“Don’t you fuckin’ say her name, Prick!” Negan roared, swinging out with the bat like Rick wasn’t pointing a gun right at him.

Rick stumbled back, trying to keep the distance.

“I did what I had to do. Dwight was a paranoid fuckin’ bastard. I was stayin’ with them so I could be closer to the hospital she was in, her and Sherry being practically like sisters since school and all. When the world went to shit, he wasn’t going to let me leave to go get her! Said she was dying anyway, and that she might be contaminated. That leaving to go get her might contaminate me as well,” Negan roared, “I wasn’t going to just fucking leave her. But I had to have some place to take her back to where she would be safe. He wasn’t going to let me back in if I left. He made that clear as fuckin’ crystal. I did what I _had_ to do. And you know what, Rick, despite my plan… God fuckin’ laughed, and took her from me minutes after I reached the fuckin hospital. Just to fuckin’ spit in my face, she turned into one of those things and I… I had to leave her there!”

Rick never saw the body behind him, tripping over an old corpse and falling on his back, his gun going off into the air.

Negan towered over him, still doing what he did best, talking. “I thought for sure that was it, I had damned myself to spending the rest of eternity alone in a fuckin’ tomb. But then… you happened Rick. Like some sort of consolation prize rendered up from the universe, your car cuts in front of me and I find you in the wreckage, looking only too beautiful and just my type, as if you were sleepin’ rather than knocked the fuck out. A cute kid to match knocked out just like you in the back, and a baby crying her eyes out, just so scared and upset. I fuckin’ saved you all. I even saved your wife too, for that matter. You should be thanking me. You should be on your fuckin’ knees suckin’ off my cock right here in gratitude for that one at _least_ , Rick.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rick gasped, dragging himself back from the man, not nearly fast enough.

“She was a goner, Rick. Because of me she never had to turn into one of these bloated sacks of crap, though,” Negan gestured with his thumb to a walker coming up on his left, turning to knock Lucille upside its jaw.

Rick’s heart might have stopped beating in his chest for just a moment. “A-a goner? You-you t-told me she didn’t survive the wreck!”

“I said she didn’t make it, Rick. And I swear by the Gods that laugh at us that she _wouldn’t_ have, but she wasn’t quite there on her own yet. I helped her out of that misery she was caught in. You would have done the same. Any decent person would have done the same. I helped you out, Rick. Did what I didn’t have the strength to do for my own wife. I did that for yours.”

Rick’s vision blurred with angry shocked tears. The sound of Lori’s scream echoing through his head. That sound hadn’t come out of her before the crash, he suddenly realized. She had shouted his name, but she hadn’t screamed. He had _heard_ her scream.

He heard another scream, not realizing that it was his own until the gun was firing blindly, unable to aim worth a shit for his tears.

The first one only grazed Negan’s shoulder, the second one sinking into his right arm, causing Lucille’s nose to hit the ground, though Negan barely retained a grip on her handle as he grabbed his arm and peddled back from Rick to take cover behind a car.

Rick pushed himself up, ready to go after the son of a bitch. He took a wide circle to round the car, Negan rolling around the side of it desperately, leaving a trail of blood from his arms, both bleeding badly from the wounds Rick had managed. Rick took a shot, missing the man’s head by mere inches. He rushed forward, catching Negan on the other side and leveling the gun with his face. Those hazel eyes locked on his and Rick pulled the trigger.

 _Click_.

Empty. He was out. He had forgotten to count the one that went into the air. _Stu-pid as fuck, Rick_.

They realized it at the same moment, Negan getting up and bringing Lucille up in a powerful arch, ready to swing right for Rick’s own head. Rick brought the machete up to swing as well, knowing he would not be able to dodge the hit coming for him.

Both men were so focused on each other that it came as a total shock when an engine was suddenly roaring in their ears, barreling down on them from out of fucking nowhere and aimed right for Negan.

Seeing his own truck gunning for him, the man just barely managed to run the few feet he needed to launch himself over the side of the shoulder’s guardrail on the road, rolling down the ditch to get clear of it as the truck’s tires screeched with the breaks being hit at the last second so it didn’t crash into the guardrail, Carl white-knuckled behind the wheel.

“Dad!” he cried out, looking just as startled as Rick for what he had just done despite himself.

Rick ran forward at his son’s panicked call, opening the door and climbing in as Carl climbed over into the passenger seat. Rick paused once he was inside the truck, noticing a video monitor set up on the dash. It was a rather high-end baby monitor- and Rick could only figure it must have come from the diaper bag Negan had found prior. It had never been brought into the shelter, however. The screen was on currently, showing a spying view of Negan’s own bedroom, providing a live feed to the truck. Rick felt a chill shoot down his back to realize they had never truly been left alone in all this time. This had to be how Negan had known to wait for them here.

He wanted to go after the man, chop him up or beat him to death with his own fists if he had to, but Judith started whimpering again, and the noise pulled Rick’s attention as Carl tried to soothe his little sister on his chest.

He had to keep them safe. That was all that mattered, he reminded himself. With the truck they would make it, and Negan would never be able to catch them. The way he was bleeding he would have no choice but to head back to the tomb he had made for himself.

Rick grabbed the monitor and tossed it out of the window spitefully, then popped the truck into reverse and gunned it, knocking a walker behind them down under the tire. He couldn’t drive fast enough as he sped out of there, off to Roswell and beyond; Carl tucked in safely under his arm and hugging him tightly around his waist in a rare showing of the little boy he still was. Judith babbled happily up at her dada. Rick kept his arm wrapped tightly around both of them.

They were _his_.

More importantly, they were _free_.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the AMAZING fanart made by Laundy here:  
> https://laundy.tumblr.com/post/185074077229/well-well-well-now-this-is-a-surprise-the


	13. Chapter 13

" **Little one gotta heed my warning**

 _ **Devil is kind**._"

Song Devil is Fine; by Zeal & Ardor

* * *

 

 

Epilogue.

‘ **Now Entering Virginia.** ’

The sign mocked Rick endlessly at his back, the truck had pulled to a stop in front of it after it had run out of gas just as the sign came into view. Honestly though, he should just feel lucky it had taken them this far at all in the last couple days.

Carl was sitting down in the ditch with Judith, given strict orders from Rick to take her and hide in the weeds if anyone came around. They had yet to see anyone that was still living, however.

Rick was gathering up their stuff, getting ready for them all to hoof it when he heard the faint sound in the distance of a working engine. He almost thought himself mad, standing up from the car on his still-sore leg to peer down the road behind them.

There was a motorcycle. The engine was loud and echoing obnoxiously through the air. Just a lone rider from the look of it. Then over the horizon came another vehicle, and another, a whole little convoy of them. There were a few sedans, a camper, and a truck or two.

People.

Outside of Negan, Rick hadn’t seen people since…

He tried to push the memory of the poor man calling for Dwight at the shelter door out of his mind.

“Carl, take Judith and get in the weeds. You stay there until I call for you. If I don’t call, you do _not_ come out, do you understand?” Rick ordered, tossing his son’s backpack down to him. Just in case he needed it he wanted him to have it.

“What are you going to do, Dad?” Carl asked, voice full of concern.

Rick had to hope for the best in people, the same as he had before as a cop. He knew any outcome was possible, a voice warning him that he should hide along with them. His gut, however, told him to try.

They wouldn’t get far without a vehicle, and D.C. was still a long way off. If there was a band of humans, maybe that meant they were looking out for each other, maybe they still had their humanity. Solitude made it harder to hang onto in Rick’s experience.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have anything worth stealing. If they’re not good people they will just drive on by,” Rick lied, hoping it wasn’t in fact a lie as he urged Carl on into the weeds. His son took Judith and his stuff and slipped inside them, Rick watching until his children were securely out of his sight.

The motorcycle was ahead of the group, the man on it spotting him standing next to the truck and pulling up to a slow stop about a hundred yards away. He pulled something up from behind him, leveling it at Rick. It was a crossbow- Rick realized, putting his hands up in the air to show he was no threat, keeping them there as the man slowly approached, looking all around like he was looking for others. _He’s worried it’s a trap_ , Rick realized.

“I- I don’t mean any harm. I’m not armed-

“Bullshit,” the man spat. “Everyone’s armed or they're dead.”

That was probably too true. “Okay- yeah, but it’s just a machete,” Rick admitted, “And it’s sitting on the floor of the cab, there’s an empty pistol on the seat. I don’t have nothing on me right now. I- I ran out of gas.” He might be making a grave mistake being so honest, but he had to hope it paid off. He needed the man’s help, and that meant he needed the man’s trust. Lying didn’t create any kind of trust. Truthfulness was returned more often than not, in his overall experience.

The man wasn’t pulling the trigger yet, his hair long and hanging in his face. Rick was half surprised it didn’t obscure his vision as he kept the crossbow aimed. The other vehicles were pulling up on them too now. The man said nothing more until they stopped and a few came out, pointing more cautious guns towards Rick as they looked on curiously.

“Daryl?” One woman called out, her hair short and silver with age. She landed the coldest eye on Rick he had ever received and he had no doubt about her intent if he tried anything. Up to that moment he had been relieved to see women in the group, figuring it made it more of a community to have a healthy mix vs just one or the other.

The man with the bow answered back. “Says his truck broke down. Claims to have no weapons on him, ‘sept a machete and empty gun in the cab.”

“He got anything worth takin’?” called out another man from the window of a truck, this one very large and with a shock of red hair.

Rick felt his stomach drop, but kept his hands up.

“I-I need help. If you can’t give it then you can just pass on by and I won’t bother you further. I- I just-

Rick’s heart stopped when a sound broke the clearing. The sound of a baby crying. _Judith_.

For a long moment nobody moved, all shocked and uncertain. It was a woman from the group that broke the stillness, coming to a decision about the situation and harnessing a large gun over her back as she broke the formation and marched past Daryl. “My God- you have a baby out here? How the hell have you stayed alive?” She was very pretty, her hair short and brown and someone had hissed ‘Maggie’ at her when she had broken the ranks.

She marched her way right up to Rick, looking around expectantly. “How long y’all been out here?” she sounded genuinely concerned, and her eyes swept Rick like she was worried for him too. It was so different from the way Negan’s eyes used to sweep over him that Rick found himself instantly relaxing just a bit.

“Maggie,” Another man called out, exasperated as he jogged up to her. “We didn’t even ask yet if he’s been bit.” He also had a pistol in hand, but carried it around like something forgotten, like he never meant to use it if he didn’t absolutely have to.

“He’s a little bloodied, but I don’t see no bites, Glenn,” Maggie shrugged. Rick had forgotten he still had dried walker blood on his clothes when he had stepped out on the road, he brushed at it timidly. “You hear that baby cryin’? The geeks will hear her too. We can’t just leave.”

Glenn let out a groan like he knew a decision had already been started without him or anyone else’s say so. “You need a ride then, dumbass? Where are you headed?”

It was the best Rick could have dared to hope for. “W-Washington. My name is Rick Grimes. I was a sheriff’s deputy back in Georgia. I heard of the army setting up strongholds and medical centers in D.C. before everything went down. I- I figured it might be best… considerin’.”

“Well turns out we’re trying to get there too,” Maggie revealed, giving the sweetest smile Rick had seen in months. “I’m a Georgia girl myself.”

He couldn’t help but return the smile hopefully.

Glenn read it differently and tried to stand up a little taller, flashing a wedding ring at Rick as he made a point of scratching his forehead. “Yeah, a few of us are. That’s where we got married in fact.”

Rick took the hint, looking away bashfully. He hadn’t meant nothin’ by it. Maggie seemed to know that too, clapping her husband on the shoulder. “Tell you what, Rick, go get your baby and wait by the truck while I have a word with everyone. Don’t worry. We’re not gonna leave behind a baby and a gentleman.”

“I-I also have a son, he’s 12.”

Maggie smiled encouragingly and nodded. “Best get him too then if you’re fixin’ to keep him. We’ll be right back.”

Rick felt hope greater than anything he had felt since- he couldn’t even recall. He collected his children from the grass, something deep in his gut already having total faith in Maggie and even her husband convincing the others not to hurt them or leave them stranded. Carl was hesitant to come out at all, and he stood scowling next to Rick against the truck as Rick bounced Judith in his arms. At the mere sight of her, the group gathered around Maggie relaxed considerably. Two beautiful black women even smiled at her like they wanted to come up and hold her. Rick found that alone to be telling about this group, and he hoped that they would take him along with them.

It took a few minutes, but eventually a group approached him. Maggie stayed behind, smiling expectantly. The woman with short silver hair from before was with this group, as well as the crossbow man, and the big red-headed man. “Do you mind if I ask your son some questions, Rick?” the woman asked, pegging him with a critical eye like she was waiting for a refusal.

He was surprised- Carl too- but nodded his head. “Uh- sure.”

The two men kept close, watching the woman’s back as she stooped down in front of Carl, her hard exterior softening as soon as he met her eyes. “My name is Carol. I used to have a daughter around your age. What’s your name?”

“Carl Grimes.”

“So this is your daddy? Not some guy that just grabbed you or stole you for sympathy down the road or nothin?”

Carl looked affronted by the very idea. “He’s my dad. He would never do nothin’ like that- ma’am,” he tacked on, remembering the respect that Rick had instilled in him when speaking to adults.

Carol smiled a bit at the show of manners in the face of offense. “Does your daddy have any friends around? Or that he’s maybe meeting down the road?”

“No ma’am.”

“Is your daddy a good man?”

Carl didn’t even hesitate. “The best, ma’am.”

Rick held close the warm feeling in his chest at his son’s resolve.

Carol didn’t seem to need any more, standing up and turning to Rick. “Good to hear. We need more good men. You used to be a sheriff’s deputy, you said. Does that mean you shoot worth a damn?”

Rick nodded. “I have a Colt Python in the truck- but no ammo left for it. I’m a pretty good shot- if you need me to be, ma’am.”

She looked down at Judith in his arms. She stared back in curiosity.

She let out a soft sigh, making up her mind. “Well Rick, I guess we better get moving. There’s room in the RV if you wanna get the kids out of this sun.”

Rick knew in that instant that they were all going to be okay. Negan was left behind in his past like a bad dream, and he could look ahead to the future for the first time as more members of the group started introducing themselves.

 

* * *

 

 

“Holy shit! He wasn’t kidding, this place is full of shit!” David gasped, coming up from the stairwell with arms full of canned goods as Negan watched from the open door of a van. He looked on, unbothered, as more of the men that had come across him on the road funneled in, ready to take everything out.

He picked at the edge of one of the bandages wrapped around his arm.

Simon, the current leader of the little group, turned a grin to him from the front seat. “I thought you were just talkin’ big, but I’m glad I was wrong. You really are okay with sharing all this with everyone?”

Negan grinned charismatically at him. “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t. Like I said before, we can help each other out. All this shit and you let me join your little operation here. Shit, I can even help you make it bigger. Better. I got a feelin’ about you, Simon. I could tell you were a smart man from the moment you told your men not to use me as fuckin’ target practice. I think we could be the best of friends… I just got a _feelin’_.”

Simon returned the smile, holding his hand out. “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, put ‘er there. We haven’t had a score this big in a long time! You’re a Savior now, buddy.”

Negan shook the man’s hand. The so-called Saviors needed a little more organizing, some rules that were a little clearer, and an end goal to work towards, but they weren’t bad. They were a decent start as far as Negan was concerned. Something he could work with. He could help build them up, make them something amazing. Something to shape the new world. With Rick and his kids gone, there was no reason to stay here. Negan wasn’t a creature of absolute solitude, after all.

And besides, even though he knew the chances, he liked toying with the fantasy that maybe, just maybe, he might see them again in this crazy little world someday.

…

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a review as this is the end!
> 
> Here we are, as happy an ending as TWD ever gets in it's non-ending chaos and after last chapter some guessed this was coming. I would like to think with just minor tweaking in your own minds that this story could eventually lead up to our first glimpse of Negan in Season 7 of the series. Maybe Rick tells his new group about all this, maybe he doesn't. He and Negan will both be very busy building up their people between the end of this story and when they should meet again. 
> 
> subscribe for updates on new stories because I'm working on another Regan story right now!  
> Also check out my original fantasy work, The Book of Lo, by R. N. Floyd or find me on instagram @ rnfloyd_official


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